Destiny's Instrument
by Bronze Cat
Summary: She is a follower, not a leader. She watched, powerless, as her sister destroyed their world. Now Jadis seeks to destroy another. She must stand with her Master and his Son and defy her but can she really fight against her own sister again? The story of the other Princess of Charn and her fate after the Deplorable Word fell from Jadis' lips.
1. The Prisoner

The guard gritted his teeth. How he wished she would stop. She had been wailing and crying for hours now.

Ever since she had remembered who she was, she had been lying on her side on her bunk and bawling. It wasn't even the screams of someone demanding attention, that he could deal with; it was the slow quiet moan of someone in deep mourning. Highly disconcerting, it touched a nerve of everyone who heard it.

He knocked on the bars.

"Stop that wailing!"

It faltered for a moment. A couple of sniffs escaped from her.

"I'm mourning. Am I not allowed to mourn the destruction of my world and the loss of my dear sister's mind?" she said coldly.

"Of course you are. Just do it a little quieter," he said. She sniffed again and then returned to her whimpering.

She was in that state for some days. Never eating, only drinking enough water to survive. And always with the sobbing; it was incessant. The guard rota gradually became shorter and shorter. They could not stand to listen to her for a long length of time, it upset something deep inside of them.

On the seventh day of her grief, the captain of the guards came down to the cells and peered through the bars at her. Her tear-stained face turned towards him and her red eyes stared at him dolefully. He raised an eyebrow and turned to the guard.

"She looks ill," he said accusingly.

"She hasn't been eating," the guard informed him. The captain's mustachios twitched as he regarded her again.

"I'm sending a maid down to clean her up. The Emperor wants to speak to her," he said.

The girl he sent carefully sat her upright and wiped her face and hands clean. Her raven hair was carefully brushed and tied off her face. After being pulled to her feet, a clean dress was pulled over her head. So unresponsive was she, so grief-addled, that she barely noticed any of this and certainly not the captain returning to the cell.

"Acceptable," he agreed and then steered her out. Her addled mind barely registered the splendour of the passages and corridors she was frogmarched through. Had she been in her usual state of mind, she would have gaped at the magnificence and babbled a thousand curious questions. It was far greater than any building she had been in before and more beautiful than any created by an architect of her homeworld.

Eventually she was guided into a hall unlike any other. Now she stopped; now she gaped. The ceiling seemed impossibly high and far away and the pillars that held it looked far too delicate to hold such a weight. She was prodded in the back and she walked forward obediently, still staring at the ceiling. She tore her gaze from above and focused on where they were heading to.

They were close; a hundred yards or so away. It was a raised platform of marble with a beautiful throne. However, the figure on the throne made her cry out in horror and prostrate herself on the floor.

"Princess Caelia, last of the Royal House of Charn, you have been brought here to answer for the crimes committed in the land of your birth," the captain who had lead her there proclaimed.

She trembled and pressed her forehead into the cool marble floor.

"His Imperial Majesty, Lord and Master of the Outlands, shall listen to your tale and decide your fate," he continued.

"Is that necessary? The poor thing has never known kindness and you are being very blunt with her," a cool voice said. That voice, it terrified her beyond belief for the simple reason that she had never heard such kindness in a voice before. In fact, it was right, she had never known any true kindness.

"I didn't mean it! I was trying to help; I was trying to stop her; I didn't want anyone to get hurt!" she whimpered. Fresh tears welled in her eyes and another sob rose up. "Please, please, believe me, I didn't mean for any of it to happen."

The figure on the throne rose and walked slowly down the steps towards her. "But it did happen, my child," the cool voice said and she cowered away from it.

She saw the bottom of the shining white robe near her and crease as the figure bent down. She could not bring herself to look up. She did not dare.

"Come my child, you cannot scrabble on the floor forever. I am not angry with you, I merely want to know what happened," the voice said. A hand reached out to her. She took it and allowed herself to be helped to her feet, although she still averted her eyes. His other hand closed over hers and she raised her eyes to them clasped together so.

She had been trembling like a leaf in the wind but at His touch she had stopped. His presence calmed her and, even though she was still frightened, she trusted Him.

"Come, my child. Walk with me and tell me your tale," He said.

He led her back through the corridors and hallways of splendour and out into magnificent gardens. Together they walked under sweet-smelling bowyers and through walkways until they arrived in a small courtyard with a pond in the centre.

She left His side and ventured to the edge, watching as the goldfish swam towards her and opened and shut their little mouths in expectation. This place reminded her of a garden of her home. She had often played with her sister there, back in the days when they did play. She knelt by the water and trailed her fingers in it.

"Caelia," He said behind her. "I want to know what happened."

There was an edge to His voice now and she twitched as she caught it. Her hands ran over the hot earth and she scooped up a handful. She lifted it and let it fall through her fingers.

"This is like the earth in Charn," she said. "It was a red colour, like this, and always warm to the touch. I liked to play with it like this when I was a child. My sister used to tease me that she was the jewel of our parents and I was the dirt on their boots. It was one of her crueller jokes."

She let the rest of the soil fall off her palm. "What will happen to her? If I am here to answer for what she has done, what will happen to her?"

"She has used her sorcery to seal herself in a deep and magical sleep. There is only one way to break it and I shall put my own restrictions in place in the hope that no-one could ever wake her," He told her.

"Your own restrictions?"

"I am Master of the Outlands. I have a power of sorts in all worlds, even Charn."

"Then why did you not stop her?" she asked. She nearly stared at Him but her uneasiness stopped her just in time.

"I have a power of sorts," He repeated. "Just because I am able to doesn't mean I should. Charn had been suffering from a sickness for many years before you were born. You and Jadis were my last hope of a cure but alas, you could not find harmony."

He sighed and she felt His eyes pierce her back.

"Now tell me, Caelia," He commanded. "Tell me what happened to Charn."

* * *

**AN: This was born out of a belief of mine that every tale has two sides. Upon reading the Magician's Nephew, it struck me that the only person to tell us that Jadis's sister was evil was Jadis herself. This got the plot bunnies boiling in my mind, _what if her sister was not evil?_**

**I am also using the term _the Outlands_ to describe every world under the Emperor's dominion that is not part of His country, for example Charn, Earth and, after its birth, Narnia.**

**I hope you enjoyed the first chapter and I will see you in the next, hopefully! :)**


	2. Two Princesses

**AN: Thank you to Heliopause and MCH for reviewing the last chapter. I took your comments into consideration and made a few adjustments to the first chapter, I hope it seems better now. Forgive the prison, it will be explained at some point. Thank you to Amandla123 for favouriting. After consideration, I decided to change Adamina's name to Caelia. I wasn't happy with Adamina and a number of problems presented themselves to me but Caelia suits her. Apologies for any confusion the change may cause.**

* * *

The city of Charn was truly the jewel of its country. The affluent parts, of course. The epicentre of the city was the Royal Palace that stood atop a hill and dominated the skyline no matter where one stood. The city spread out in a lazy spiral from the Palace, winding down the hill and gradually becoming more and more run-down until the very outer circle was little more than a slum. The central avenue was wide and tree-lined and always kept clean and free of beggars and traders ever since a past king had ordered the slaughter of such people when a beggar looked him directly in the eye. Such were the whims of the ruling family and the people of Charn lived in fear that the next Royal Decree would cost them their lives.

Just below the crest of the hill and before the very gates of the Palace there was a large and beautiful park. On this particular day, everybody of note had gathered to this park to see their Princesses. Today was the day when their Princesses' magical competency would be judged.

A line of targets and objects had been set up and the Princesses moved steadily down the line; levitating, throwing and exploding each obstacles as the magicians assessing them required. The watching audience oohed and aahed appreciatively as Jadis blew craters in the grass with the force of her explosions and slammed her objects into the trees and clapped politely when Caelia followed suit; her results slightly underwhelming compared to her sister's.

"She is a strange girl," the Queen noted of her younger child, fanning herself under her canopy at the edge of the grass. Her ladies-in-waiting made noises of agreement. "Once, we were in some small shanty town for a respite and she gave the doll we had commissioned especially for her birthday to some peasant waif," she continued.

The ladies made appropriate noises of horror.

"And the waif kept it?" the most senior of them clucked.

"For a while. As soon as his Majesty found out, he had the town razed to the ground," she replied, craning her neck to see Jadis hurl a crate the full length of the grass. The crowd burst into applause as flames burst upwards from the wreckage as a final flourish. Jadis bowed theatrically, revelling in the attention.

The Master of Magicians approached the throne and the Queen arose from her cushions to join her husband and hear the magicians' professional opinions.

"So, I take it you will be focusing on fine-tuning the powers of my eldest?" the King rumbled. "It is a shame about Caelia but no doubt we can find some administrational position to keep her busy."

"Actually," the tiny Magician quavered, "Princess Caelia is in possession of the strongest powers."

The Royal couple stared at him coolly.

"You must be mistaken. Jadis is stronger, we just saw the evidence. Do you call your King blind? Do you think he is mentally incapable in some fashion?" the King asked coldly.

The Magician bowed nervously. "Of course not, sire, but we detect that the younger Princess is stronger. She appears to be scared of her powers and so holds back."

The King laughed once, a cold and dark sound. "Are you suggesting that my daughter, a Royal Princess of Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be and wonder of the world, is afraid of her birthright? That she is... weak?"

The last word was said with such malice that the Magician started to tremble, despite the heat of the midday sun.

"No, no, your Majesty, I did not mean tha-" he began but the King silenced him with a wave.

"Guards! Take this grovelling traitor out of my sight!" he commanded. "Mount his head above the gateway to the Magicians Guild as a warning to the others."

The guards gripped the doomed man by the arms and led him off. He didn't struggle, he just bowed his head in defeat. There was no point in fighting. The King beckoned to his youngest. She approached meekly.

"Caelia, the now ex-Master of Magicians just informed me that you were afraid of your powers," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "Tell me that this is a dreadful lie."

"I'm not scared of them," she said defiantly and then looked down at the ground. The Queen shut her eyes. _Please, child. leave it at that and don't add a "but"_ she thought.

"But I'm worried that I won't be able to control them. I'm worried I might hurt someone," Caelia said quietly. There was a dreadful pause and then the Queen felt her husband's Will stretch forth and knock their daughter to the ground.

The polite chatter of the crowd faltered as she crashed into the grass and then resumed their conversations as they made their way home.

Caelia lay on the grass where she had fallen. The King stood, his shadow falling across her.

"Come, he said to the nobles. "I require some entertainment after this disappointment."

The Queen remained behind as he strode towards the Palace gates and glared down at her daughter.

"Remember who you are," she said to her. "Remember whose blood runs in your veins. We did not get to where we are by being afraid to hurt people. The commoners are like rats; show them mercy and they will overrun us but repress them and we shall endure."

She swept off, her entourage following in her wake and still Caelia lay on the ground. She was trembling terribly, her right hand clenched tight. Jadis approached her and knelt beside her sister.

"I know you are angry but they are both right," she said. Caelia propped herself up on her elbows and stared at her.

"I'm not angry. Why am I never good enough for him? Surely it is good that I don't want to hurt people?"she said. Jadis' face hardened.

"If you want praise then you have to earn it," she said coldly. "Start acting like a Royal Princess of Charn."

"By throwing my maid out of a window because she displeased me? I'm not like you, or Mother or Father," Caelia said. She buried her head back in her arms.

Jadis sighed. "Come on, on your feet. If anything, you are going to get terrible grass stains."

Caelia didn't move. Jadis snorted and stepped over her as she walked towards the Palace.

"I swear Mother must have taken a tumble with a stable-boy. There is no way that you are Father's daughter, you are such a weakling," she added as a parting short.

Caelia was left alone in the park, still lying flat out on the grass. Jadis' final jibe had pushed her over the edge and she no longer felt self-pity, only rage.

"_I'm not weak!"_ she shrieked. Suddenly she reared up and punched the ground. Her Will flowed into her fist and exploded through, blowing a crater larger than any other produced that day. "I am not weak," she muttered, tears welling in her eyes.

She didn't let any fall. A Princess of Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be, did not cry. And she didn't know who would be watching and who would tell the King.

As she stood and staggered towards the Palace gates, there were in fact two people watching her and two people who had witnessed her outburst.

One was one of the King's men, an old general who was now head of the Royal Intelligence network. He had watched her performance with some interest and, like the Magicians Guild, had noticed her power. Her anger seemed to have amplified her abilities or at least let her Will flow easier. As soon as Caelia had vanished, he sauntered towards a hidden door in the Palace wall. The King would be waiting for him.

The second was a simple man. Born a commoner, trained in his father's trade and living his life eternally in fear of the King's whims. He watched Caelia and her reaction intrigued him. There was a tavern in one of the lower circles where similar men gathered at the end of the day and they would all be very interested to know what he had just seen.


	3. A Sphere of Adamantine

"I did it! I did it!" Jadis crowed, sprinting through into their workroom. Caelia looked up from her notes. They were in the Magicians Guild, the institution where they received most of their instruction. Magic was the kingpin of Charn's society; the Guild was considered to be second in status to the Royal family and the greatest academics in the world. One of the greatest honours a noble family could receive would be the acceptance of a child into the Guild to become a Magician and even rarer was a commoner accepted.

"Did what?" Caelia asked. Jadis pulled her through into the adjoining room. In here, there were a number of objects that the sisters were required to levitate. The most difficult was a heavy lead ball bigger than their heads. It was hard to even roll around the floor and impossible to lift without the aid of magic.

Jadis pointed a hand towards the ball with her usual flourish. Caelia felt her sister's Will stretch towards the ball and compel it to rise. With a painful slowness, the ball flew upwards until it hovered three feet above the flagstones. Caelia walked towards it and crouched so her eyes were level with it.

"It seems steady," she said approvingly and turned to look at her. A sweat had broken out on Jadis' brow and the arm which was extended towards the ball was shaking. She let it sink down to the ground and gave a small gasp of relief.

"You don't sound very impressed," she said curtly.

"Oh, I've been able to lift it for weeks," Caelia replied breezily and then paused. Jadis' expression was murderous.

"What?" she hissed. Caelia flicked her hand upwards and the lead ball rose easily.

"See?" she said. She directed her Will to it again and it moved off, orbiting the pair of them at a steady pace. Jadis watched it with narrowed eyes. "Once you have done it once, it becomes much easier," Caelia added nervously.

"And I suppose you think you are now capable of lifting the Adamantine Sphere?" Jadis snarled. Caelia's Will wavered and the lead ball crashed to the floor. The impact cracked a flagstone.

Her sister's hand closed around her wrist and she was dragged unceremoniously through the halls of the Guild. The Palace was at the centre of Charn but if one was to flatten the hill on which the city sat, the chamber to which they were headed would be the centre. It served as the Guild's meeting hall.

In the very centre, there was a wooden pedestal and upon that sat the Adamantine Sphere. It was tiny, easily fitting into an average parson's palm, and a beautiful silver in colour. But it repelled magic and anyone with magic in their blood could not even touch it.

It was said to have been forged by the first King of Charn and placed here as the ultimate trial. Only the true ruler of Charn would be able to gather their Will and overcome the Sphere. By lifting it, they proved their authority and their right to rule.

It was said that the first King had complete mastery of the Sphere. He bent it to his Will and with it worked many wonders. The current King could barely lift the Sphere a few feet from the pedestal.

"Go on, lift it!" Jadis spat, pushing Caelia into the hall. Caelia looked at the Sphere. She had been in the Guildhall a few times before and she had never liked it. It almost seemed to be alive and did not care for the touch of anyone's Will but the King's. Occasionally, the robes of a novice were discovered on the floor of the hall; the only remnants of a drunken bet turned sour.

"I don't want to," Caelia said. "I don't like it."

Jadis pulled her close.

"When I am Queen, I shall bring you here again," she hissed in her ear. "And I shall lift the Sphere higher than any monarch before me. It will bend to me but never to you, understand? I am the powerful one!"

"Princesses!" a voice squeaked behind them. It was the new Master of Magicians. He was a short and nervous man, the height being genetic and the nervousness being due to the fact that his predecessor had been in office for less than a week. He bobbed several bows in quick succession. "Come, my Princesses! Your lesson awaits you!" he said.

Caelia wrenched her wrist from her sister's grasp and walked back to their workroom. She was glad to be away from the Sphere.

"Now, where were you?" the Master said when they had both taken their seats. He opened the heavy book on the teacher's desk and secured a small pince-nez on the end of his nose. "My predecessor has left precious few notes, my Princesses," he sighed. "There is a note here to say that Caelia had mastered levitation-"

"We both have," Jadis said curtly. She shot her sister a filthy look.

"Ah," the Master said, oblivious to the tension between them. "And how is your theory? Caelia, can you define transmutation for me?"

"Changing something from one form to another by the use of magic," Caelia said flatly.

"Would you like to elaborate?" the Master asked. She shrugged. "Yes, well, it is mainly used to change organic matter into inorganic matter," he said eventually. "I believe your great-great-great-grandfather was particularly fond of turning his enemies to stone."

"What an excellent idea," Jadis said softly.

"Yes, yes. So your theory appears sound," he said, a high-pitched note of uneasiness working its way into his voice. "Ah, wands! Have you covered wands?"

"The Royal Family of Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be and wonder of the world, has no need for wands. Magic is in our blood," Jadis said coldly.

"Yes, your Highness, of course," the Magician said quickly, "but you need to be aware of them and their uses. Not all those inclined to magic can make their Will flow as easily as you."

Jadis raised her eyebrows but she did not say anything demeaning. The Master took this as a cue to continue. With a piece of chalk, he quickly sketched a wand on the blackboard.

"A wand can be used to direct the flow of magic much in the same way pointing a finger will be more direct than a spread hand," he said. "A wand will also amplify the user's Will and make any incantations they cast much stronger than their natural abilities."

"Why don't we all use wands then?" Jadis asked. "We want to be as powerful as possible, don't we?"

"Yes, my Princess, we would if not for the fundamental flaw with wands. After prolonged use, too much of the user's Will flows into the wand and the wand becomes a physical manifestation of their Will. Break the wand and you break their Will," he explained.

The further in detail he went into wandlore, the more Caelia became afraid of her sister's impassive face and the thoughts she could not read. Although she would never say it, Jadis had found this lesson to be particularly interesting.


	4. The Book

Caelia and Jadis had a suite of rooms in a wing of the palace. Each Princess had a private bedroom and water closet with a shared lounge in between. Caelia's rooms overlooked the park. She had pulled her favourite chair over to the window and she liked to sit there when studying her grimoires from the Guild. If the words on the page began to blur into one then she could lift her eyes and rest them on her city.

For many years she had sat here and she had come to know the comings-and-goings of those in the upper levels. There was the bearded hypochondriac, probably hurrying to the healer with another false complaint. The fat man hobbling along was a notorious drunkard and owner of several brothels. And the beautiful woman in the ermine trimmed cloak had left the husband working tirelessly to provide for them while she had a rendezvous with her lover.

She saw many lives while she sat studying but they were all the same. Moneyed, privileged, never wanting for anything. She wanted to know what the lives of those in the lower levels were like. She couldn't see them from here.

It had once occurred to her to dress up and walk around the lower levels pretending to be a commoner but her clothes were far too fine. Muggers and thieves and worse would be on her in an instant and all hell would break loose when her real identity was discovered. So, for now, she was content to sit by the window with her grimoires and merely ponder.

The door to her chamber flew open with a bang. Jadis rushed forward and perched on her sister's footstool.

"Look! Look at this book I found!" she said and dropped the heavy tome into Caelia's lap. The pages were yellow with age, the ink faded to brown. She turned the pages slowly.

"Where did you find this?" she asked.

"Buried in an old trunk in one of the Archives," her sister replied. Oh yes, Caelia spent her days watching the city pass by and Jadis spent hers in the Archives, looking at the artefacts of old Charn.

"Jadis, this is evil magic," Caelia said. "These spells - eternal winter, plagues, the summoning of demons - it's all bloodmagic. Look, here's a spell to recall the souls of the dead! There is a reason why this book was hidden."

"And who decides what is evil?" Jadis demanded. "I don't think this magic is evil; it's pow-"

"Do not say powerful!" Caelia snapped. "Power isn't always good! A tornado is powerful and all it does is destroy!"

She flung the book away. Jadis' Will shot out and caught the book before it hit the floor. It sailed into her waiting hands and she cradled it reverently.

"Well, I think they will be useful," she snapped in return and swept from the room.

Caelia tried to return to her notes but again she was interrupted. This time she thrust her book aside and scrambled through to the shared lounge as she heard the boom of her father's voice.

"Come, come, my dears!" he said. "The Master of Magicians has informed me that you have both mastered levitation so I thought we could take a fly on the carpet!"

Jadis gasped with delight and ran to hug their father. Caelia smiled and thanked him shakily. She hated travelling on the carpet. Not so much the flying per se but the enforced close contact with Jadis and her parents that came with it. She actually quite liked the flying. She liked sitting on the very edge and watch the country speed past underneath.

She dutifully fetched her favourite cloak. It was made of a golden cloth, a colour so pure it could have been mistaken for the real thing. When she joined her sister and father again, they were still where she had left them; holding hands and whispering fervently together.

The King smiled when she entered and directed his daughters towards the window of the lounge. It was actually a door that swung outwards into emptiness. Usually onto emptiness, this time onto a flying carpet.

"I shall control it until we are away from the city and then you can take a turn," he said.

It was simple enough to control. One merely extended their Will out underneath the carpet and held it there. The carpet then became solid and a small deviation in Will allowed it to be steered and manipulated. It was only like a moving piece of floor. In fact, one of the early exercises Novice Magicians were put through was to jump and turn flips on a carpet levitated by their tutors. It taught them faith in their Will and their abilities.

Carpets were reserved only for high-ranking members of society. The Royal family's personal one was particularly beautiful, a great swirl of deep colours twisting across its expanse. Caelia hurried out onto it and knelt down. She ran her hands across the pattern and smiled. One of her earliest memories was doing exactly this.

She smiled as she felt her father's Will again and the carpet leap forward into the sky. It zoomed low over the streets of the city and the Princesses laughed as they heard the cheers of their people. The Royal Carpet was always a spectacle to behold.

The further they flew from the Palace, the fewer cheers were heard but Caelia didn't notice; she was too caught up in the pure thrill of flying on the carpet. She longed to stretch her arms out with her golden cloak and raven hair streaming behind her in the wind but she could only imagine the contempt she would receive from Jadis and her father if she did so.

Soon they had left the city far behind and were flying low over woods and fields. The King brought the carpet to a steady stop.

"I want to go first," Jadis said. The carpet waivered for a moment and then Jadis' Will spread out and held it steady. It floated forward in the air and then started to move forward. It felt nowhere near as steady or fluid as when the King's Will was underneath it. Caelia looked over her shoulder at her sister.

Her eyes were shut and once again a sweat had broken out on her forehead. The King was sitting at the very back of the carpet and could not see his eldest's face but he could evidently feel her Will shaking.

"Good, Jadis, now let Caelia try," he said eventually. The disappointment in his voice was evident.

Caelia quickly spread her Will and deftly caught the carpet as Jadis' receded. She smiled again as she moved it and soon they were flying through the air as easily as if the King was controlling it. It felt amazing. To be so free and in control; it made her feel positively dizzy with exhilaration. She swooped them down low to a pond and she heard her father clear his throat nervously.

"Careful," he said gruffly. She giggled and then hesitated. There was a small village on the far side of the water. As she watched, a woman ran from a dwelling and scooped up a child who had been hiding in some rushes. Hiding and watching them, she realised. The woman scurried for her house again, keeping her head bent and the child's face pressed into her shoulder.

"Who are they?" she asked.

"Commoners," the King replied dismissively.

"Can we go over there?"

"No. Why would you want to, Caelia? Those people are nothing to us."

She pouted and then extended her Will again, ready to drift the carpet over towards the ramshackle collection of houses.

Instantly she felt the force of the King's Will crush down upon her. It was unlike anything she had felt before, like being slapped with a mountain. She fell forwards on her hands and knees, barely able to keep the carpet up. She heaved a sigh of relief as she felt him catch them again.

"Did you not hear me, Caelia? Those people are scum to the like of us," he said darkly.

"I'm just curious," she snapped. "I'm sick of fawning courtesans and terrified Magicians; I want to meet some _real _people."

She regretted her words at once. There was a terrible pause and then her father's Will stretched out, streaking towards the town.

"No!" she screamed as the buildings burst into flames. She tried to gather her Will but again he smothered it and when she stood and tried to jump from the carpet his Will caught her and held her. She could only watch helpless as the flames coiled skyward. She heard screams and crashes from the houses as thick, black smoke churned into the sky.

"Stop it!" she shrieked at the King, turning to stare at him. "Please, Father, they are dying!"

He met her gaze coldly and did nothing.

"Those people are nothing," he repeated. "They were born nothing, they will die nothing. We are the chosen ones, born to magical abilities. We are not nothing."

His Will gripped her head and turned it. She was forced to watch as the village burned to the ground.

* * *

Jadis turned the pages of her book slowly but her mind was elsewhere.

Her father had displayed such power today. One day, when she was Queen, she would have that power too. She could not wait.

She also wondered what she would do with her sister. Lock her away in some tower where she could do no harm, probably. Her abilities were powerful but this stupid mentality she had hindered her at every turn. On the flight back to the City she had not spoken a word but Jadis had seen the tears sliding down her face.

She heard a door open and someone move through their lounge. She rose from her bed and hurried through.

"Where do you think you are going?" she demanded. Caelia turned. Her eyes were still red-rimmed from her tears.

"I can't stay here," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "He killed them. They didn't do anything, anything at all."

"So you are just going to run? You are pathetic!" Jadis sneered.

"Why? Because I'm compassionate? Because I actually care about other people?" Caelia snapped.

"Because you are weak! Go, run away and good riddance! You are an embarrassment to us!" she yelled. She hurled her Will at her sister but it smacked off something. Something vast and terrible and unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her own Will ploughed straight back into her and knocked her off her feet.

"If I'm so weak," Caelia said, drawing her golden hood over her head, "then why can't you even dent my Will?"

She swept from their rooms, leaving Jadis scrabbling on the floor.

The elder Princess staggered to her feet and lurched through her room to her window. She stared down below and her hand clenched as she saw her sister's golden cloak hurrying through the gardens. She screamed in anger and her Will exploded forth. It shattered the window and her mirror, overturning her furniture and blowing her belongings around the room. She turned and stumbled away, ignoring the broken glass that cut her feet, and collapsed on her bed. The book was still there when she had left it and had blown open at the last chapter.

_All these spells may be considered evil if used without the proper ceremonies_, she read, _but all pale in significance to this last. May the ancestors have mercy upon us, for what we have discovered is truly abhorrent. With the right ceremonies and a single Word, a mage would wield the power to destroy Charn and the entirety of its inhabitants._

_We have recorded evidence of this Word and the means of which it could be obtained but we cannot write the Word itself for it would burn the page. We have placed these precautions in place because we believe there may come a time when the suffering of Charn is so great that the only answer is to say the Word._

_The Word should be said on this occasion and only this, for this Word is truly deplorable._


	5. Bloodmagic

**AN: I'm slightly ahead on this story so I'll post the next chapter. Warning, this chapter contains a scene which some people may find disturbing. Then again, I don't think the discovery of the Deplorable Word would be anything but disturbing.**

**Please review!**

* * *

"It is madness, Jorne," a farmer hissed to his friend. "What do you think will happen?"

Jorne glared at him. "Trust me, will you?" he hissed and then stormed across the tavern to the lone figure by the fireplace.

"Good afternoon," the girl said pleasantly and sipped their cup of wine.

"I know who you are," Jorne said, taking the seat opposite. "You see, we've had tales of a girl in a golden cloak. These past five years she's been walking the world, helping. But I know who you really are. I remember the day the King flew past on his carpet, his army following behind. And you look just like him... Princess."

"Congratulations, are you expecting some kind of reward?" she replied dryly. He grinned.

"Oh, of course. You're mine now. I should get a nice price for you if I hand you over to your family."

"Well, then you are as stupid as you are ugly," she shot back, lifting her cup again. He lashed out, knocking it from her hand. She stared at him disbelievingly. "I was enjoying that," she said quietly.

Her Will struck him like a rampaging bull and he was thrown backwards out of the chair. He flew right across the room and was pinned halfway up the wall, snorting and struggling as he fought. She stood up and walked towards him.

"Really?" she said, addressing the other farmers and the landlord. They watched her with barely veiled hostility. "I mean, really? I have walked most of this world, helping others. Felinda welcomed me with open arms, as did Bramandin. But I should have known to be more careful in Sorlois! Too close to Charn and too recently conquered. I am not like my family and I am not going back to them! You can accept this and I will stay, or I will leave and you will get nothing. Any curses that need lifting, any sicknesses that need healing, you can forget about them because I won't help!"

"Stay, your highness. No harm shall come to you here," the landlord said immediately. She nodded and released her Will. Jorne fell to the ground. The landlord poured her another cup of wine.

"What was that?" Jorne coughed. "What was that holding me up?"

"My Will," Caelia said. She drained the cup of wine and look round at the blank expressions. "My Will, it is a power I have, a compulsion. I don't think even the Magicians understand it fully. I am particularly adept at levitation and shields but I have a fair competency in the other areas."

"How strong are your powers?" Jorne asked. Caelia didn't move. Slowly, every bottle and cup in the place rose up a few inches.

"I can maintain this for some hours, provided no-one gives me a shock," she said. A farmer tentatively prodded his floating tankard and it drifted away across the room, revolving slowly.

"Can we learn?" Jorne asked with innocent curiosity. Caelia regarded him carefully. She recognised the greed in his eyes and it saddened her. It was always the same. She would arrive in a new place and for a while she would be welcomed. Her powers were almost worshipped... until someone got greedy. Until someone else wanted them. It was a shame that it was happening so soon in Sorlois.

"No. They are the birthright of the royal and noble blood of Charn. It is rare for commoners to be born to them and I have never heard of someone from another land being accepted into the Guild," she said.

"So, you would not share it with us? Why can't we learn?" another muttered.

"Because you are born with your Will. It is part of you, like the colour of your hair or the pitch of your voice and you learn to control it in the same way you learn to control your legs and your hands," she said curtly. She turned and stared at Jorne. "No, it doesn't work like that. I'm a person, not a weapon."

The farmer was instantly on his feet again, his face livid. He pointed a finger at her.

"Witch! You pulled that thought from my head!" he shouted.

"A power the Royal family alone possess. My great-grandfather once hosted a banquet where he slaughtered all of his nobles for having treacherous thoughts. Those were men trained by the Guild, all with strong Wills, and he could lift their thoughts from their minds easily. If you were to step foot in Charn with treacherous thoughts like that then you would be dead within a few minutes. And I am not your plaything; I won't fight against my father," she said grimly.

"Why not?!"

"Has a wall ever fallen down on your head? Because that is what the full weight of a monarch's Will feels like when it strikes you."

* * *

Jadis could barely contain her excitement. Five years, it had taken her five long years to fully find the means to obtain the Deplorable Word. Book upon dusty book in the deepest, darkest corners of the Archives she had searched through. And once she knew, she began to explore. She needed a large but enclosed space to complete the ritual and the books recommended that it be underground. Eventually she found a place. An old cellar in the catacombs beneath the Palace would suffice. Why, it even had a raised dais. It was as if it had been constructed entirely for her needs.

"Jadis, I think we should go back," her companion said. She took her by the arm.

"Oh, come on, Mother! These corridors haven't been walked for years! Don't you want to know where they lead?"

The Queen smiled weakly at her daughter and then nodded. Something had changed in her daughter ever since Caelia had vanished. Jadis had thrown herself into her studies with the Guild. She had mastered every exercise they threw at her. The Queen could feel her daughter's brand new drive burning with her Will deep inside her.

Jadis led her into the cellar. The Queen breathed out and let go of her daughter's arm. She walked forwards, her eyes staring up at the curving brick ceiling. They dropped to the sandy floor and then moved to the stone dais against the far wall. Her brow furrowed and she stepped closer.

A pentagram had been drawn on the stone in a dark tarry substance. Characters in Old Charnish were scrawled around the edge; ugly symbols of death, summoning and binding.

"Jadis, what is this place?" she whispered.

"Your death."

She turned quickly, pulling her Will in ready to release. Jadis flew at her, her beautiful face crazed and a silver knife in her hand. She flicked it across her mother's throat and caught her body as she fell. She caught her mother's lifeblood in a silver goblet and waited until she was drained, humming a small lullaby to herself as time passed.

"Goodnight, Mother," she said sweetly and kissed her mother's cheek.

She stood and walked towards the dais. She dipped her finger in the goblet and touched it to each point of the star's pentagram leaving a bloody fingerprint against the tar. The words of the chant felt guttural and alien on her tongue but she said them with precision and fluency. If anything went wrong then she could get sucked away into the Demon World. As she spoke the final words, she lifted the goblet and drank deeply. Her mother's blood was metallic and salty on her tongue. She placed the goblet in the centre of the pentagram and stepped back.

Black smoke coiled upwards from the goblet; a tendril at first and then a column. It spread and then folded back in on itself to reveal a young man with shadowy wings.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was beautiful, simply the most exquisite creature she had ever set eyes on. Icy blue eyes pierced hers as the beautiful face turned this way and that, assessing her.

"Good evening," he said pleasantly. His voice was soft and musical. "Why have you summoned me?"

"I was reliably informed that you could teach me a certain Word," she replied. He smiled, the icy blue eyes burning with a sudden triumphant malice, and then he stepped from the pentagram. Her heartbeat escalated and she tried not to show her fear on her face. He wasn't supposed to be able to leave the pentagram. She quickly scanned the symbols. They were perfect.

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said as he drew near her. "I won't harm you and I won't leave this room. A drawing like that won't hold me but with it you would trap anyone else, I can assure you."

"But, you do know the Word?" she asked. "I must know what it is."

"Of course."

He placed his fingertips to her face and she felt something brush her Will. Something infinite; stretching on and on with no end and nothing but darkness and a brutal anger.

"Hmm, your Will is strong but your resolve is stronger. A burning desire to be more powerful than... _Caelia_."

He smiled as her face twisted into an expression of pure hatred.

"I shall teach you the Word," he agreed.

Now came the bargaining. This was the part her books warned her to be very cautious of. He could try to manipulate her, give her a really harsh deal to make her drop her own side of the bargain. She had raided the Archives and collected together a number of important artefacts.

"I can offer you these in payment," she said, gesturing towards them. He glanced at them dismissively.

"Trinkets at most. No, I want something a little different," he said. He stepped closer, his face inches away from hers. "I want you to promise that you will say the Word," he said, running a finger over her cheek.

"Why? That doesn't seem like much."

A strange hopelessness came into his eyes. It was like she was looking into the face of a child who was lost. "I was His favourite. His best and brightest; His shining light. And He cast me down," he said in a forlorn voice, his eyes distant. Suddenly they snapped back to her. "If you say the Word, you will cause Him more pain than you could possibly imagine. That is worth more to me than anything you could offer."

She nodded slowly. "So all I have to do is say the Word?"

"All you have to do is say the Word," he confirmed. She smiled.

"I accept your offer, demon."

"Oh, I'm no demon," he breathed and then pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was so cold that it burned her mouth and tongue but it was nothing compared to the sheer agony raging through her mind as the Word exploded into her memory and threw down its roots, never to be moved again. As their lips parted, she coughed and some blood dripped from her nose.

She fell to the floor, her body shaking and trembling as the Word surged through her mind. He stepped over her quivering body and strolled back towards the goblet.

"Good luck, your highness," he said and was swept away with another column of smoke. She lay on her back, jerking and trembling, as her hands scrabbled in the sand. Her back arched and she physically flew a few feet in the air as her Will blasted out again and again in an attempt to keep her body functioning.

Miles away in a tiny tavern, bottles and tankards crashed down from where they had been suspended in the air. Caelia turned and stared into the distance. She had felt that. Everyone with some magical abilities within a two hundred mile radius of Charn must have felt that.

"What has she done?" she said in a small voice as, in her cellar, Jadis rolled onto her side and vomited. She sucked in great lungfuls of air and propped herself up on her elbows. A small triumphant smile curved around her lips as her mind ran over and over the Deplorable Word.

Power felt good.


	6. Jadis' Ascension

"What happened?" the King demanded.

"Some Novices were practising bloodmagic in one of the cellars of the catacombs between the Palace and the Archives. The demon they had summoned escaped but I managed to stop it," Jadis said smoothly. She looked down. "I'm sorry, Father, but it managed to kill Mother first. And the Novices too; I was lucky to escape with no serious injuries."

She felt her father's Will probing at the edge of hers. She kept her mind clear and serene and mirrored it in her facial expression. The feathering touch vanished and her father sighed wearily. He turned to where his page was taking notes.

"Send word to the noble families at once. I will hold a banquet tomorrow night where they can present their eligible daughters," he said to him. The page nodded and began to draw up the proclamation.

"What? What are you doing?" Jadis asked.

"It's a matter of protocol, my dear. With your mother dead, I am required to find a new consort," the King explained. He walked over to the page's desk and signed the offered document. "Hopefully one who can give me a son," he added as an afterthought.

* * *

The proclamation circulated the noble houses and the girls all gathered together, whispering excitedly. They dressed in their finest and trooped up to the Palace in the company of their fathers and brothers. The King received each of them in turn and they all curtseyed low and smiled prettily; gushing sweet nonsense in an attempt to catch his attention.

And then their eyes would stray to his left, to the Queen's throne, and they would lock eyes with the terrible figure who sat there this evening. Jadis wore scarlet; her long dark hair caught by a golden net and rubies glittering on her throat. She glared down at all the girls, piercing them to the soul, and with that single glance, conveyed to them her belief that nobody was good enough to be her father's new consort. One hand innocently rested on her father's sleeve but every girl recognised the challenge lurking there.

She spoke not a word, during neither the presentation of the girls nor the following banquet, but when the meal was over she took a walk along the terrace with one of the girls, Lisabetta. To say they would be friends would not be technically correct; they had grown up playing together and they knew enough about each other's characters to warrant companionship. However there was no warmth or affection between them.

"How is His Majesty taking your mother's death, ancestors bless her memory," Lisabetta asked politely.

"Well enough. There are more important things to consider than moping over her," Jadis replied curtly.

"Indeed. No male heir, it is a worry. You must be deathly afraid of becoming Queen. I would simply hate it," Lisabetta said. "All those decisions and responsibilities! I would rather let my husband decide."

Jadis didn't reply. Lisabetta laughed coldly and took her arm. "Anyway, you need not worry if your father chooses me. I shall save you from the tediousness of ruling."

"How on earth will you manage that?" Jadis asked, pausing by the marble fountain at the end of the terrace.

"The firstborn of my family is always a boy," she said smugly, turning away from her.

The anger in Jadis built and built until she was almost shaking. She pushed Lisabetta squarely in the back. The girl tripped over the hem of her own dress and went sailing headfirst into the fountain. She tried to climb out but Jadis' Will grabbed her and held her under the water. She struggled furiously, lashing out with her own Will, but Jadis was too strong.

Eventually Lisabetta went still. She lay face down in the water with her hair and dress fanning out around her. Her brother found her there some hours later.

She marked the first in a string of accidental deaths in amongst the noble families. Aenid tripped at the top of a flight of stairs and broke her neck; Thiopia choked on her favourite food; Yarni had a fit in the marketplace, screaming that she could see demon animals stalking her.

Jadis attended every Remembrance Ceremony and gave quiet words of comfort to the girls' parents. They thanked their Princess and moved on, not realising that the answer to their daughters' deaths lay with her. She would turn back to the room and scan the remaining girls; that small smile curving around her mouth as she tried to guess which one would be next.

The girls stopped gushing about how amazing it would be to be Queen and what a dashing figure the King still cut. Now they held each other and whispered about how the Queen's ghost would not let anyone else marry him. The rumours escalated until Iarith insisted that she had woken up to see the flaming figure of the Queen standing at the foot of her bed and pointing at her, her eyes as red as hot coals. That amused Jadis; the last was nothing to do with her. She liked it though. The next night, she quickly conjured the illusion and sent it into another's bedchambers. The screams could be heard all over the upper levels of the city.

Jadis sat by the window in her lounge and giggled cruelly to herself.

There was no worry of a new Queen now and only her father in the way. And when she was Queen, she would find her sister and end her too.

Painfully.

She thought long and carefully on how to do in her father. The murders of the girls had been easy and was put down to accidents and circumstances but the murder of a King was a little different. It must look like a natural death if she was to get away with it. Back to the books she went and eventually she found the spell she needed. There was only one ingredient that would be difficult to obtain.

Her opportunity came a few days later. She was dining with her father in his rooms. It was more intimate than the dining hall; just the two of them seated around a small table and a single servant to pour the wine.

"I've selected a bride," her father told her. She feigned interest while anger seethed within. This was quite unexpected; she had thought he had given up.

"Oh? Who?" she asked casually.

"It will be nice surprise for you. I'm sorry, Jadis, but with all the deaths recently, the advisors and myself decided that nobody could know. We suspect foul play so not even the girl herself will know until the morning of the wedding," he said.

Under the table, her right hand clenched into a fist.

"I suppose it is for the best. Foul play, really? There hasn't been such a play for the throne in years!" she said, reaching for her glass. Her fingers tipped it over and it smashed on the table. The glass flew everywhere, including into the King's hand. He cried out and dug the shard from the back of his hand.

"Idiot!" he snapped at her. She looked down at her plate as the servant noiselessly swept the glass up. Exact for one shard; the shard from the King's hand that was now hidden safely in her lap.

She hurried for the cellar in the catacombs. The dais was still adorned with the remains of the spell that had used her mother's blood so she drew a new pentagram on the floor for her father's. This time in the centre she placed a small candle and lit it before beginning the chant of summoning. At the climax, she dropped the blood-stained shard into the flame. It soared upwards and turned a deep blood-red in colour.

One of the shadows crept forwards from a dark corner of the room and stood up, forming the rough shape of a person. It paused. She nodded once and it collapsed, speeding from the room. She blew out the candle and left the cellar to return to her rooms.

All she had to do now was wait.

* * *

The shadow slid through the corridors of the Palace until it reached the Royal Bedchambers. It crept past the guards and wriggled under the door. The King was sitting in a great winged armchair by the fireplace, his eyes gazing unseeingly into the flames. The shadow reformed and took the few steps towards the chair. The King's head whipped round and he half-rose as he saw the shadowy figure standing over him.

He opened his mouth to cry out, either to his guards or for a spell of protection, but the shadow plunged a hand into his chest and wrapped it around his heart. With a terrible slowness, it squeezed. The King's face turned ashen; his eyes wide and his mouth opening and shutting noiselessly. He fell back into the chair, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth and the shadow stood back. Its task completed, it melted away into nothingness.

In her chambers, Jadis turned the pages of her books. She was positively burning with anticipation. How long would it take for the shadow to kill her father?

Someone knocked hastily on the door.

"Your highness? Your highness, please answer the door, it is urgent!" the voice of her father's manservant shouted.

She smiled again and then rose and crossed to the door. Fixing a suitable expression of concern on her face, she opened the door.

"Yes?" she said. He gaped at her.

"The King is dead. You are Queen, may the ancestors bless your Majesty," he intoned hollowly.

She gasped and held a hand to her mouth. As she gabbled questions, her eyes stricken with horror, inside she sang a triumphant battle-cry.

She had done it.

* * *

The next day she stood on the terrace of the Palace, waving at the citizens of Charn below. They cheered and applauded her and she revelled in their affection.

Suddenly she hesitated. She thought she had seen a flash of gold, a golden cloak moving through the crowd. But it was gone. It must have been a trick of the light. She shook herself slightly and smiled again.

Nothing would stop her now.

She tried to rush through the official ceremonies as fast as she could but those around her dragged her down and held her back. The only thing she managed to block was that annoying piece of protocol saying that the monarch must have a consort.

Eventually came the day that she had longed for; the Trial of the Sphere. For the first time, she sat in the great golden throne of the Guildhall. She felt every inch a true Queen, swathed in a dress of velvet with the golden crown of Charn resting on her head. The Guildhall was one of the few places where most of the citizens could gather in the one place. As the Master of Magicians bumbled and flustered through a lengthy speech about why they were all there, she surveyed her subjects. Pride curled through her belly like a warm fire and she smirked. They were hers, to do with as she pleased. Oh, the plans she had for them.

"... and the new Monarch shall prove their worth; and the Adamantine Sphere shall rise upwards and Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be and wonder of the world, shall move forward into its next glorious age," the Master said, his speech drawing to a close. He stepped to the side and Jadis stood.

She paused for a moment, drinking in the crowd's attention, then stepped down from the throne and walked towards the Sphere. She thrust a hand forward dramatically and sent her Will flying for it.

She thought she heard a voice cry out, muted and hoarse, but then something struck her. Her legs and back buckled and she felt the heels of her shoes begin to crack as it pushed down upon her shoulders with terrible force.

Pain blossomed through her mind and ravaged through every nerve of her body but she endured it. It was nothing when compared to the pain of holding the Deplorable Word in her head. She poured more and more of her Will into the Sphere until she feared she was at the very limits of her powers. The first dreadful tug on her heart came and fear flooded through her. That meant that her life force was being used up; if she did not raise the Sphere before it was gone then she would be burned up as quickly as all those drunken Novices.

_Crack!_

The roaring in her ears ceased instantly as the crack reverberated around the room. A moment of pure silence followed and, in the deafening quiet, Jadis saw the Sphere begin to rise.

Noise surged back into the Guildhall and bombarded her senses as the crowd cheered and applauded their new Queen. She released her Will and the Sphere sank back down again.

How could an inanimate object give off such an air of smug superiority?

She felt awful; so terribly weak. The Word raged in her mind and tried to force itself onto her tongue but she held it back with the last of her strength. She smiled triumphantly and walked slowly back to the throne. With a sigh of relief she sat down, sucking in great lungfuls of air.

The Master eyed her wearily. "Praise to the Queen, for she has proven herself against the Sphere, the Ultimate test. Does anyone still deny her as Queen?"

The babble in the room fell. The words were merely ceremonial but everyone always fell silent when they were spoken; waiting for an answer that would never be voiced.

"I do."

The crowd gasped as the golden-cloaked figure rose from amongst them and made their way to the centre of the hall. Jadis watched their descent from the stands, her eyes narrowed and her beautiful face murderous.

"I denounce you as Queen and present my own claim to the throne of Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be and wonder of the world," the person said formally.

The Master looked positively sick. It had never occurred to him that the ceremony might go wrong in some way and he had no idea where to go next.

"You?" he squealed. "What right do you have to the throne?"

The golden hood flew back and Caelia faced the Master and her sister, a fiery defiance burning in her eyes.

"My right as a Royal Princess of Charn," she said grimly.

* * *

**Oh look, I care enough about the story to make a cover for it! :D I don't normally like picking actors to be my OCs because I can rarely find one that matches well enough to how I picture them. This time though, I thought Katie McGrath looked almost exactly how I picture Caelia so I thought I'd make a cover to reflect this. **

**And here we have Jadis' rise to power. I thought long and hard about how best to kill the King. Sometimes he died naturally, sometimes Jadis killed him in a variety of different ways and I think that at one time, Caelia was going to kill him accidentally. I think I made the right decision in the end.**

**Also, I won't be following much of a schedule when it comes to uploading new chapters. I always want to be one chapter ahead so I'll upload as I get them written.**

**See you soon!**


	7. Caelia's Promise

_Some days before_

The landlord gave Caelia another cup of wine. She was white-faced and still shaking.

"That didn't feel right. By all the ancestors, what has she done," she whispered. She sipped the wine. "I have to go," she said suddenly. "I have to get back to Charn. Something evil is at work there."

"Aye, it's called royalty," Jorne snorted. She stared at him. "Sorry, your highness," he said gruffly, "but your family has never been kind to us."

"Tell me," she said. There was silence in the tavern. Nobody spoke and nobody wanted to meet her gaze. "Please, tell me," she begged.

"The army came to Sorlois; the King merely a green child barely able to fill his armour. They burned my father's crops and took the little food we had saved," Jorne said.

"They violated my sister. She was to be married the next week," the landlord said softly.

Slowly, more and more voices sounded. They told her of all the hurt they had received, all the trauma, all the death. The word went out to the villagers and a small crowd gathered in the tavern. They filed past her one by one, telling her how Charn had wronged them. She only listened but her eyes conveyed her sorrow. Finally, a young man with eyes older than his years stepped forward and whispered his tale in her ear.

Her eyes closed and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I can't give you back what you have lost and I doubt any apology I could offer would be enough for you," she said shakily, fighting so she wouldn't break down completely. "But please... tell me what can I do? What can I do to right this wrong?"

"You could promise us a monarch who will rule us with justice and honour," Jorne said in the gathering silence.

She stood and walked away from them, thinking. She couldn't fight her father, never. She possibly had the Will but not the strength of mind. Something about him terrified her and it always would.

"I won't fight my father," she said eventually. "But I can fight my sister."

She turned back to them.

"In the name of my ancestors, I promise that I shall fight my sister on your behalf. You deserve justice and you deserve freedom. If I am Queen then I shall give this to you. All this and more, I swear," she said shakily.

* * *

"You stick out like a sore thumb in that cloak," Jorne sneered as they entered the gates of Charn. She gritted her teeth.

"Why did you decide to accompany me?" she asked with false cheeriness.

"Someone had to ensure you made good your side of the bargain. How were we to know that you wouldn't go running to your father," he replied.

"I see trust goes a long way in Sorlois," she muttered and then drew her scarf across her face. She and Jadis had always looked very similar. It was often commented upon how they could be twins when there was really a few years between their births. The fewer people who recognised her; the less chance there was of news of her arrival reaching the ears of the Royal spies.

"We shall stay in the tavern over there. It is fairly reputable," she said. Jorne sighed.

"I come all this way with you with the hope of sleeping in a featherbed and I'm lumped in a tavern like everyone else," he grumbled and then pushed a path for them through the crowds.

The tavern was like any on the lower levels; dank, dark and with an ever-present smattering of drunks. Jorne shoved his way to the bar.

"Two rooms, for me and my sister. And food, if you have any," he said to the innkeeper, laying some coins on the counter. The innkeeper swept them up in an instant and checked them for authenticity.

"You've come to the city at a bad time, friend," he said, handing Jorne two keys. "The upper levels are in uproar. Something's killing all the noble women off. They're all twittering about accidents but I know murder when I sees it. Started with the Queen herself and has moved on to the girls of the noble families. Thank the ancestors that Princess Jadis has been spared."

Caelia choked and tried to hide it with a cough. The innkeeper looked at her curiously and she blinked stupidly at him from behind her scarf and hood. _Country bumpkin, country bumpkin,_ she thought furiously. He almost looked like he was about to say something and then one of the drunks shouted something incomprehensible at him from down the bar. He moved off, looking over his shoulder at her. She blinked again for good measure.

The rooms were adequate. She had slept in better, she had slept in worse. She pulled off her scarf and cloak with a sigh and threw them on the narrow bed.

"You don't seem very upset about your mother's death," Jorne noted.

"She wasn't much of a mother. I was raised by a nurse and my tutors; I only really saw her at official functions and when she asked me to sit in her chambers with her ladies-in-waiting," she said flatly. "I'm more interested in how she died."

"And why it has spread to the noble girls," Jorne said. He kicked back on her bed.

"Not on the cloak," she snapped and knocked his muddy boots off the golden material. "That would be Jadis," she added, turning to the window. "A monarch must have a consort, it's an old custom, and Jadis wouldn't want our new step-mother to produce a male heir and upset the line of succession. But why did Mother have to die in the first place? It doesn't make any sense."

He sighed and got off the bed. "I'll go out into the markets and see if I can learn anything else," he said. She didn't say anything. He set the key to her room on the rickety bedside table and left the tavern.

So this was Charn. How was it Caelia always phrased it? Ah yes, _the greatest city that was and ever will be and wonder of the world_. Well, it certainly was grand but he didn't think it deserved the moniker of greatest.

Then again, she never said it with any passion. She merely tacked it on the end like it was part of the name of the city. It must have been enforced on her at an early age.

He wandered up the hill. His scruffy appearance began to draw attention from the guards but he ignored their filthy looks. Eventually he reached a market unlike anything he had ever seen before. The markets he attended were for produce; a couple of wobbly booths with some grubby vegetables and suspicious meats. This was a market of table after table of materials and jewellery. Brass and gold shone in the warm afternoon sunlight and incense hung heavily in the air.

He walked up and down the stalls, staring in wonder at everything. The cost of one of these pieces of jewellery would feed his village for a week.

His reverie was interrupted by a piercing scream. A girl was pressed against one of the tables, her face twisted into one of pure fear. She pointed at something and screamed again.

"Lady Yarni?" her companion said fearfully.

"Can't you see them?" Yarni shrieked at her. Her head snapped round and her wide eyes followed something only she could see. Suddenly she dived to one side as if she was leaping out of the way of something. "Can't you see them!?" she screamed again.

She was hyperventilating as she crawled across the ground. "Demons, demons, animals of shadow with glowing red eyes," she wailed and hid her face in her hands. Someone tried to go near her and she bolted, screaming as she went.

"Not another one," a stall-holder muttered. "There isn't going to be any noble brats left to buy me wares at this rate."

Jorne looked around the market and hesitated. There was Caelia, but in an ice blue cloak and a dress grander than he had ever seen before. What on earth was she playing at?

No... this girl had a face that was every bit as beautiful as Caelia's but infinitely crueller. Caelia had the same regal air but it was almost humbling and one always felt comfortable in her presence. Her doppelganger radiated superiority. A chill crept into Jorne's heart as he realised that this must be Caelia's older sister, Princess Jadis.

He did not like the Princess' expression. A tiny, cruel smile was curling around her mouth as she swept from the marketplace.

They spent some days in the tavern. Caelia didn't leave her room, relying on Jorne to go out each day and gather the news. There were more and more reports of the noble girls either being driven mad or dying. She didn't particularly care about them; she just wanted to know what her sister was planning.

What was she doing? Why had she killed their mother? All these questions and more kept swirling round her head.

She pulled the tatty armchair of her room over to the window and curled up, still thinking deeply. Her hands suddenly gripped the sides of the chair as she remembered the last time she sat like this.

That fateful day when she had run away. The day Jadis showed her the old grimoire with the bloodmagic. The darkest spells needed lifeblood; the blood pumped from an artery as a person lay dying.

She sprang from the chair as Jorne burst through the door.

"I know what Jadis is doing!" she said to him, grabbing her cloak and tying it around her shoulders. "I'm sorry Jorne, but I have to go to the Palace. I must warn my father."

She stopped gabbling and stared at him. He was pale, a mix of emotions dancing across his face.

"You are too late. The King died in the night," he said shakily. There was a terrible pause and then her Will pushed him to the side. She ran from the room, her golden cloak flying behind her, and didn't stop until she reached the square by the Palace's terrace.

There was her sister. Standing on the terrace and waving at the citizens of Charn like she was the most beloved monarch in the world.

Caelia stared up at her. _You orphaned me,_ she thought. _I know you killed him and I know you killed Mother. Why, Jadis? He wasn't much of a father but I loved him; like I love you, my dear sister. But I will never forgive you for this. I am going to stop you, I promise._

As she turned to leave, the sun came out from behind a cloud. It caught her cloak and, out of the corner of her eye, she swore she saw Jadis falter.

Good. Now Jadis knew she was here.

* * *

With difficulty, she convinced Jorne to come see the Trial of the Sphere. The farmer was very uncomfortable surrounded by the Magicians and nobility. Caelia snorted when she saw her sister on the throne.

"She looks ridiculous," she said snidely to Jorne. He made a rough noise of agreement and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

She kept her narrowed eyes fixed on her sister all throughout the Master's speech. Jadis looked so smug and Caelia found herself being reminded of the promise Jadis made her when they last stood in the Guildhall. Caelia had seen the exhaustion their father succumbed to after he had lifted the Sphere. There was no way that Jadis would make good her promise to lift it higher than any Monarch before them.

"... and the new Monarch shall prove their worth; and the Adamantine Sphere shall rise upwards and Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be and wonder of the world, shall move forward into its next glorious age," the Master said shakily. He stood to the side as Jadis rose from the throne.

"Oh get on with it, you attention-whore," Caelia muttered as she paused.

Jadis descended each step towards the Sphere's pedestal with a painful slowness. Caelia fought the urge to extend her Will and trip her.

Her sister stopped in front of the Sphere and thrust a hand forward. The surge of Will sent shivers down Caelia's spine. She looked across the room to the nobility's galleries and saw how uncomfortable they looked too.

"Something's wrong, she's pushing too hard," she said to Jorne.

"Don't you want to push hard?" he whispered back.

"Not always. Sometimes you can put too much in and you are in danger of collapsing," she said and returned her gaze to her sister. Jadis was white-faced and hunched slightly as if something was pressing down on her back. Her mouth was twisted into a snarl.

Just as Caelia thought she was going to fail, she straightened up and the Sphere began to rise. The roar of applause exploded forth as the citizens of Charn cheered their new Queen. She had proven her right to rule.

The Sphere sunk slowly back to its pedestal and Jadis returned to her throne. Caelia shook her head. Jadis looked exactly like their father had done. Exhausted.

"Praise to the Queen, for she has proven herself against the Sphere, the Ultimate test. Does anyone still deny her as Queen?" the Master intoned.

The Guildhall fell silent. Jadis smiled her smug little smile and Caelia's blood boiled. She thought she had won; she thought Charn was hers.

"I do."

The words flew from Caelia's mouth before she could stop them. There were gasps all around the hall as the citizens craned their necks to see who had spoken.

She sighed. There was no going back now.

She stood and pushed through to the steps down into the Guildhall. Every eye was on her and none more terrible than Jadis'.

"I denounce you as Queen and present my own claim to the throne of Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be and wonder of the world," she said, her voice clear and steady. She reached the bottom of the steps and stopped next to the Sphere, glaring up from under her hood at her sister and the Master.

The Master looked outraged.

"You?" he squealed. "What right do you have to the throne?"

Arrogant old sod! Did he not recognise her voice? She threw back the hood of her cloak and a second wave of gasps ran around the Guildhall.

"My right as a Royal Princess of Charn," she said grimly.

Jadis stood slowly.

"So, little sister. You have come back to us. And you think you can rule?" she said.

"Yes. I may not have been trained by Father like you but I would make a far better Queen than you could ever hope to be," Caelia replied. Jadis sneered. _Prove it_, her gaze screamed.

Caelia turned, her mind whirring.

"Hello!" she said, walking over to one of the guards. He blinked a few times and then saluted smartly.

"Your Highness."

"I remember you, you had just started at the Palace when I left. And you've made the rank of Sergeant?"

The guard nodded.

"Well, congratulations. I hope you keep our city safe for many years to come," she said. He inclined his head and she moved on.

"What's your name?" she said to a small boy.

"Alexon," he mumbled. She smiled kindly.

"Do you like living in Charn? Do you feel proud of your city?" she asked. He nodded enthusiastically and she ruffled his hair.

She did this to many around the room but the ranks of Magicians and nobility she completely ignored. At times her eyes would glide across them and they would sit up straight, ready to receive her greetings, but then she moved on.

Eventually she walked back to the centre of the room and looked up at her sister again.

"In my travels I discovered that a kingdom is nothing without the backbone of the common people," she said. "If I am your Queen then I promise that I will always listen to you and take your counsel, I shall never forget your names and faces and I will never oppress you like the monarchs before me!" she declared and her words rippled around the stands.

The common people began to whisper. They glanced between Jadis and Caelia, their eyes shining with a strange new hope.

Jadis shot to her feet and the hubbub died instantly.

"You can't be Queen!" she cried in the petulant voice of a child. "You are weak! You are weaker than me; you will never lift the Sphere!"

"It is true, your Highness," the Master added. "If you wish to pursue your claim then you will have to demonstrate mastery of the Sphere."

Fear flooded through her and she glanced at the silver ball lying innocently on its pedestal.

"Now?" she said and everyone heard the note of panic in her voice.

"Yes now! I demand it!" Jadis screamed.

Caelia took a step back and scanned the stands until she found Jorne again. He gave her a curt nod and she turned back to them.

"If you wish," she said coldly and faced the Sphere.

Her Will slipped towards it and touched the smooth surface.

Jadis smiled as her sister's face paled. A small choking noise escaped the Princess and the citizens of Charn began to whisper as Caelia shook uncontrollably, her eyes wide and fixed on the Sphere.


	8. Sentience

Caelia took a deep breath and stretched her Will towards the Sphere. She did not throw it as Jadis had, instead probing gently. It felt odd; more like a living creature than an inanimate object. Suddenly she felt something tug her Will and drag it into the Sphere itself. She was paralysed, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

_"Oh really? So soon again? I guess this one wants to prove herself some more,_" a peevish voice said in her mind. "_Well, there's not really much point in trying to reason with you, none of you ever listen. Blah blah blah blah bla-"_

"What? I can hear you!" she thought back. There was a pause.

_"Oh, how delightful!" _the voice replied, the peevishness vanishing in an instant. _"No-one has bothered to listen to me for years!"_

"Who are you?"

_"Isn't it obvious?"_

"You... you aren't the Sphere, are you?

A low chuckle echoed around her head.

"_That is my form in your world, yes. I watch and I listen. I used to advise the Kings but they ceased to hear me."_

She felt a feathering touch stroke her Will. It ran through the depths of her mind and dived into her memories. Image after image flitted past her eyes. Her mother and father, her tutors, Jadis, they all dived past and she realised that the Sphere was watching her entire life.

"_Intriguing,"_ the voice mused. "_You are the first in over twenty generations to be born with a kind heart."_

"Plenty of people have kind hearts."

_"Not here. People may appear kind but they always have deeper motives. Take your so-called friend Jorne. You wouldn't believe some of the filthy little daydreams he has about you. No, you act for the good of others alone. It is intriguing. Ah, now I understand..."_

There was a deep sigh and a long pause.

"_I shouldn't tell you this but you are unique in your world. You have two destinies; either you will rise higher than any before you or you will fall."_

"Well that's precise," she indignantly.

"_I can't tell you anything else! Destiny doesn't work like that!" _it snapped, the peevishness coming back. She tried to sneer but the Sphere still held her paralyzed. All she could do was make a choking noise and she suddenly remembered that she still stood in the Guildhall.

"I need to lift you. To prove my worth. They are watching me still and I must look an idiot just standing here not doing anything. Please, I need to give them hope."

"_You have two options. I can let you lift me or you can overpower me."_

"Is that what Jadis did? Overpower you?"

_"Yes, and your father, and his father before him and so on. They overpowered me, despite my warnings. I am bound up in the fabric of this world and each time they bested me they risked tearing it asunder."_

The voice sighed again. "_I wish you luck in the coming storm."_

She was brutally thrust into consciousness again. Her vision darkened and she blinked rapidly in an attempt to clear it. She saw the silvery sheen of the Sphere begin to rise and her ears heard the susurrus of the crowds whisper.

She hesitated, a frown appearing on her face. It took almost no effort to hold the Sphere hovering its few feet from the pedestal. She directed her Will again and the susurrus rose to a roar as the Sphere sailed towards her and hovered a few inches above her cupped hands.

With a triumphant smile and delight gleaming in her eyes, she turned back to the throne. All the Magicians were on their feet, the Novices wide-eyed and the Seniors all frantically gabbling to each other and scribbling notes. The Master himself was green-faced and clutching the side of the throne, his eyes almost popping from his head.

Jadis was still seated on the throne. Her beautiful face was livid and her hands were clenched tightly. She stood and instantly all noise in the room ceased. A vein began to throb in her forehead.

"I claim the Sphere fairly and, with it, my right to rule," Caelia said before she could speak.

"You think you can rule?" Jadis sneered. "You won't last five minutes. Go ahead, try. It will entertain me."

Her eyes fell to the Sphere still in Caelia's hands.

"Have that trinket. Useless thing will remind you of your follies when you lose," she said.

"Must we fight?" Caelia asked.

"What would you suggest as an alternative? Two Queens, ruling jointly side-by-side?" Jadis said drily.

Caelia stared at her. That could work. A union, to bring about the greatest age that Charn had ever seen. Together they would rule fairly and with justice. The citizens of Charn would never again know fear; they would love and respect their monarchy once more. The principalities of Sorlois, Felinda and Bramandin would be given some independence, their own governments and such like, and more emphasis would be given to revitalising Charn's society.

"Look, the fool is actually considering it," Jadis mocked. "Meet me tomorrow at noon in the park. We shall end this there."

* * *

Caelia sat the Sphere on the table of the tavern. It hovered a few inches above the table, rotating gently. She prodded it with her Will but the consciousness she had spoken with in the Guildhall wasn't there.

A plate of steaming hot stew was placed on the table beside her. She looked up at the innkeeper. He nodded respectfully.

"Your Majesty," he said gruffly. She murmured her thanks and then returned her gaze to the Sphere. She will rise or she will fall, it had told her, and she had no idea how to do either.

Jorne sat down opposite her with a tankard of ale. He eyed the Sphere suspiciously.

"So how can you control it like that? Your sister could barely lift it," he said.

"I don't know. I don't suppose you heard it speaking to me," she said flatly.

"Nah. You froze for a good few minutes. Then it rose and floated over to you and caused all that uproar," he said.

She sighed and rested her head on her folded arms.

"Are you going to eat that?" he asked hopefully, nodding towards the stew. She shoved it towards him. "Now what," he asked through a mouthful of food.

"I meet her tomorrow in the park and we talk," she said.

"And then?"

"I rise or I fall," she said so softly he barely heard her.

She retired to her room early and fell into a fitful sleep. She fell through a stream of memories of her parents and sister, the Sphere and a sinister shadow creeping after her, until she fell into a column of fire. She plummeted down, the flames twisting around her, until she fell out of her narrow bed with a bump.

She lay on the wooden floorboards for a moment, trembling as she remember the nightmare, and then picked up herself and dragged herself over to the seat by the window. The sun rose slowly over the streets of Charn. Jorne brought her some breakfast but she didn't touch it.

The city seemed very quiet. Word would have spread by now. Everyone would know.

She didn't look like a Princess when she eventually got dressed. The cracked piece of glass that passed for a mirror showed her a girl who was clean, at least, but dressed in a simple dress with the beautiful golden cloak tied over the top. She knew Jadis would come streaming out of the Palace in all the finery she could find within its walls. Caelia felt like a fraud; a girl playing Gala Queen for one single day.

The Sphere sat beside her bed and she lifted it up now, bearing it in cupped hands before her. It still felt dull; missing the spark of life the peevish voice had possessed.

Jorne was waiting for her in the tavern below. He stood and smiled at her. She didn't return it. He opened the door for her and they walked out into the street.

As they walked towards the main boulevard, more doors opened and the citizens of the lower levels of Charn joined her. Even as they climbed the hill, more and more poured from the side-streets until a great gathering was following her. They followed her through the gates of the park.

Jadis was waiting for her with her own retainers, nobles and Magicians mainly. She laughed when she saw the horde trailing after her sister.

"Look," she laughed, "our peasant queen has found some waifs and strays to rule!"

The nobles all chuckled to themselves. They sounded just like Caelia's father's court; a Royal made a comment and the court gave an appropriate response. It was completely lifeless.

Jadis' eyes scanned over the crowds. "You will really follow her?" she sneered.

They didn't answer her. She stared directly at Jorne. Caelia had to give him credit, he didn't flinch. He met her gaze proudly and Caelia stifled a laugh as she caught his vile thought. He winked at Caelia as Jadis' face twisted in disgust.

"Sister, do we have to fight?" Caelia asked plaintively. "That idea to share the throne; it is not as preposterous as you think. Together we could be the greatest monarchs in the world. We can do it Jadis!"

She held out the Sphere.

"Please! There is a consciousness trapped in the Sphere and it told me that I could rise higher than anyone before me! We can rise together, I know we can!" she said passionately.

There was a pause as Jadis regarded her. Then a laugh burst from her sister, a cruel and heartless laugh.

"The Sphere? You are mad!" she said. "I will never join you. I can rise by myself!"

Caelia looked down at the grass, her heart sinking. She didn't want to fight Jadis. This was more than fighting her sister; they were implicating every citizen of the city. The lower levels stood behind Caelia; the upper behind Jadis.

She raised her eyes to her sister.

"So be it."

"No magic," Jadis said quickly. "Let us decide the victor by other means."

"Agreed," she said, her eyes narrowing. Jadis walked towards her, holding out a hand.

"Shake on it. And we shall go our separate ways and prepare for our battles," she said grimly. Caelia reached out to take her hand but her fingers caught on the sequins of Jadis' sleeve. She gasped in pain and pulled it back. There was a small nick on her finger. A drop of blood welled and fell to the ground as she watched.

"And so the first blood is spilled," Jadis hissed. She turned and swept back to the Palace, a strange smile on her face.

Caelia was very quiet on the way back to the tavern. Jorne chatted to her non-stop, sprouting elaborate battle plans and predictions of glorious wins. He didn't notice her silence or her pale face. In fact, he didn't notice anything until he had escorted her all the way back to her room.

Suddenly she fell to her knees in the middle of the floor, her face completely white.

"Get me lights! As many as you can and quickly!" she said. He looked confused. "Get me lights now, Jorne! My life is in danger!" she shrieked. He tried to step towards her but, as soon as his shadow fell across her, she shuffled backwards and away from him.

"Lights, now!" she screamed.

He nodded and fetched as many candles as they had in the tavern. At her instruction, he placed them in a circle around her and lit them. She sat cross-legged in the centre, the Sphere floating on the floor in front of her, and quite literally jumped at shadows.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting on her bed.

"She drew my blood," she whispered back. "There is a very old piece of magic where you use someone's blood to hone the senses of a shadow. I bet my cloak that that is how she killed Father."

"And what if you just cut yourself on her dress by accident?" he said grumpily. She glared at him.

"You don't know her. She would rather kill me easily instead of fighting her way through an army," she said quietly.

"Well, I'm going downstairs," he sighed and stood up. His shadow fell across the circle of candles, stretching inside the protection.

Caelia screamed as it rose upwards into the shape of a man. It turned between the shocked farmer and the cowering Princess as if deciding something and then suddenly swooped upon her. It plunged a hand into her chest and she gasped.

Jorne tried to grab it but it was truly a shadow; touching it was like trying to grab smoke. His hands opened and closed futilely on the shadowy mass. He couldn't do anything! Fear struck him as he realised that there was nothing he could do; Caelia was going to die.

_Ching_.

The noise was so soft that he barely heard it over Caelia's gaspy breaths. He looked round and his eyes fell on the Sphere.

It was spinning on the spot; rising and falling as it gained speed. As Caelia gave an especially terrible gasp, it spun so fast that it became a blur. There was a bright flash of silver light so powerful that made him wince and cover his eyes.

When it subsided, the shadow had gone. Caelia coughed a few times, drawing in deep breaths. He grabbed her in a rough hug, tears gathering in his eyes, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now you see," she murmured. "She will do anything to kill me."

She looked at the Sphere and held out her hand to it. It floated towards her obediently.

"Thank you," she said quietly to it.

"_No problem. That is the only time, I am afraid. I shouldn't intervene," _the voice said in her head. It sighed.

"_And so it begins._"

* * *

**A return of everybody's favourite shadow! :P**

**To summarise the Sphere: there is a living sentient being trapped in the Sphere that used to advise the King. Future monarchs thought they had to overpower the Sphere but if they had only listened to it as Caelia had then they would have been given control of it. Forcing the Sphere to bend to their Will was dangerous as they literally tore cracks in the world by doing so (The crack and moment of pure silence were the signs of Jadis tearing a crack of her own)**

**We shall meet the presence in the Sphere in a later chapter but for now I can tell you it is not Lucifer, the Emperor or Aslan's form in Charn. I'm interested to hear any theories you may have as to who it is. :D  
**


	9. The Path to Destruction

Jadis sat on her throne, her fingers tapping a frustrated rhythm on the golden armrests. Why had the shadow not worked this time? She had thrown a chair through the window when she discovered that her sister still drew breath.

The slippery little cow.

The Master and the nobles were doing nothing to improve her mindset. They were all gathered around a table in front of her, shouting advice and opinions over each other. She raised a hand and the hubbub died.

"How many men do we have compared to her," she said. There was silence.

"Well, your Majesty, we estimate that approximately two thirds of Charn's population has defected to her side," the Master said eventually. "In addition to the lower levels, the guards and the Novice Magicians have joined her and we have received reports of the farmers burning stores intending to be brought for us."

There was a crack from the throne as Jadis snapped off one of the ornate decorations adorning the sides. She glanced down at it and then placed it on the table.

"Two thirds? How?" she growled.

"Her empty promises give them hope. They think she will give them a better society," one of the generals said.

Jadis' brow creased.

"Better?" she sneered. "They have me! My word is law! I protect them and I govern them; they must do whatever I say!"

"Of course, your Majesty, that is their purpose," the general said smoothly, "but unfortunately, they seem to be possessed of a somewhat dangerous idea that Caelia would make a better queen. They must be shown that you are absolute; you had them until Caelia's trick with the Sphere."

He turned to the Master. "Have you found out yet how she did that?"

"It is impossible!" the Magician flustered. "Mastery of the Sphere belonged to the First King and the First King alone! Not even his son could control it the way she does!"

He took a deep breath, the angry red flush creeping up his cheeks. "It must be an illusion," he added.

Silence greeted his words.

"An illusion," Jadis said coldly. "You think she is capable of conjuring an illusion complex enough to fool myself, the nobility and all the Magicians, including yourself?"

"There is no other explanation, my Queen!" he exclaimed and then faltered in her cool gaze. "I shall return to the Senior Magicians and we shall endeavour to reach an understanding of this enigma."

He all but ran from the throne room.

Jadis settled back into the throne. "Now. What do we do about her followers," she asked.

* * *

Today Caelia felt more like a queen. A serving girl from a noble family had presented her with a green and gold dress stolen from one of her mistresses and it fit Caelia perfectly.

The tavern appeared to have become her unofficial headquarters. People were coming and going at all times of the day and night, pledging allegiance to her. Some groups were a complete shock to her.

The Novice Magicians, in particular. They were the sons and daughters of the noble families after all and had grown up supporting and worshipping the Royal Family. She was pleasantly surprised that they had defected to her side.

The guards too proved to be a useful resource. They knew almost every path through the city, official and unofficial, and told her of all the little secrets the mass of buildings held between them.

The best tactic, they told her, was to engage Jadis' forces in the streets of the city itself. They were trained soldiers, used to fighting in open battle, unlike Caelia's who had never fought outside a tavern brawl. Stealth would have to prevail, not sheer brawn.

The first major clash was in the main market place. A group of noblemen marched into the centre, all pride and arrogance, and demanded the crowd disperse. Angry, the common people charged.

It was a bloody battle, fought with pure malice and hatred only. For four hours it raged. More and more people flooded to the square ready to rip and maim the ones who had oppressed them and made their lives a misery. Even the children fought back. While the adults through themselves at each other, the children broke windows and scrambled onto rooftops. From their vantage points, they hurled stones into the crowd, cheering little bloodthirsty battle-cries when they struck a noble down. The market place was completely destroyed; its flagstones stained red with the blood of both parties.

But it was a victory for Caelia.

It cost her possibly twenty lives and she mourned their loss; but her heart sang to know that all of Jadis' men had been lost. For two more days the battles raged throughout Charn. And Caelia was almost triumphant.

They had taken the lower levels, the upper levels and even the Guild but the Palace still stood in the hands of Jadis.

"We have to take the Palace," Caelia said to her captains. They stood in the square looking up at the last symbol of the autocracy of old Charn.

"We'll never get through the doors," Jorne said.

"Then we find another way. There was an old tale of catacombs between the Palace and the Guild Archives. We shall start there," she said.

* * *

The Archives were dry and dusty, as always. Caelia walked through the halls with her nose wrinkled. She had never understood why Jadis felt so drawn to them. It was horrible here.

A draught lifted her hair from her neck and she turned slowly. There was something behind an old bookcase. She pushed it aside with her Will and revealed the narrow staircase.

The passage beyond was dark. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust. She beckoned to Jorne and the others then descended into the darkness.

Caelia conjured a small ball of light and they crept along through the passage. No-one had been down here for years; the muck on the floor was a testament to that.

Wait, someone had been down here. Someone had made several trips from the Palace, the direction they were headed in, into a side corridor.

"Stay here," she said to her followers and edged along the corridor. It opened out into a large space. Her ball of light floated towards the centre and rose until the entire room was bathed in light. Her breath came in short sharp gasps as she saw the two pentagrams on the floor and the one on the dais at the far end.

This was dark, evil magic. She couldn't even bring herself to read the symbols scrawled around the edge in her sister's elegant script. The first two pentagrams were for summoning the shadow. One for her and one for her father.

Jadis _had_ killed him.

She stepped round them carefully and walked towards the one on the dais. She instantly regretted it. The ugly symbols, the silver goblet encrusted in dried blood, it all added up the most foul magic she had ever seen. Nausea swept over her and she turned and vomited on the compacted sand of the floor. What lengths had her sister gone to to secure the throne? What could she possibly have done?!

It would end now. Caelia would not let it go any further.

She walked back to where her friends were waiting.

"When we reach the inside of the Palace, Jadis is mine," she said grimly. "Nobody else is to touch her."

She started down the passage again but she steadily began to pick up speed. She left her followers far behind and burst into the Palace like a whirlwind. Her Will blasted away anything that got in her way, be it person, door or furniture. All fell as she advanced through the halls of her once home.

Finally she threw open the doors to the terrace. There was her sister, already tensed to flee. Jadis looked broken. Her followers were dead and she stood alone. She had no-one and she glanced at her sister with an expression approaching fear.

Caelia drew in a deep breath and met her gaze coldly.

"I win," she said simply, spreading her hands wide. "I win, Jadis. All that death for nothing, all that blood on both our hands. How does it make you feel?"

Jadis didn't answer. Caelia's followers arrived panting in the room.

"End this, Caelia," Jorne snarled. "Finish her now."

She looked over her shoulder at him in disgust.

"Your Majesty," she corrected. He was becoming far too familiar with her. She had seen all the vile daydreams he had about her and she would stamp it out of him. Nothing would ever happen between them; it disgusted her to think of it.

"If we kill her then we are no better than my forefathers," she said and turned back to her sister. "Jadis, you shall face trial for your crimes in front of a jury. They shall be the ones to judge your fate, as it was once done long ago."

Still Jadis said nothing. She stared at Caelia as if she could not believe what she was hearing.

"Jorne, go out into the city and tell the people we have a victory," Caelia said quietly.

_"NO!"_ Jadis screamed. She drew herself up to her full height, her eyes blazing. "No, my dear sister, you may have won but this will never be your victory!" she screeched.

And then a word fell from her lips.

One single, solitary Word.

Outside, the sky darkened and the air went still. Scarily still.

Across the world, people paused and looked at the sky in the stillness. Parents instinctively reached for their children as the clouds rolled in, coiling in on themselves with a terrible menace.

All of a sudden, a great storm blew up from nowhere and ravaged the entire world. Buildings were flattened, whole forests were uprooted and rivers and seas boiled away to nothing. It tore through the streets of Charn like knives, mowing down the people of the city without mercy.

The glass of the Palace rained down upon Caelia and her people. Her blood ran hot across her face as the glass bit and tore through her skin. She screamed as something white-hot raged through her mind and chased her down, raging and snarling and tearing her sanity apart with a brutal strength. The whirling dust and glass almost blinded her but she could just about see the one figure not buffeted by the storm.

"Why?" she bellowed through her agony. Her voice was whipped away by the wind. The pain in her mind intensified and seemed to rage through her entire being.

Something slammed into her body and she was thrown like a doll the entire length of the hall. Her body broken, there was nothing she could do but succumb to the torture rocketing through her.

The storm subsided as quickly as it had come and Jadis stood alone; the only living soul in an entire world. She walked slowly towards her sister's bleeding body. Caelia lay spread-eagled on her back, her eyes open wide and staring at nothing and blood trickling from the many lacerations across her flesh.

Jadis kicked her in the stomach.

"I win," she said venomously.


	10. Help Me

Damn. She was alone.

Jadis walked through the ruins of her former world. Everything was devastated. She was Queen of nothing. She climbed the steps back to the Palace and wandered up and down the ravaged halls. What would she do now? How could one be queen with no subjects?

She reached the terrace again and she cast her eyes over the dead that still lay there. Her sister's sightless gaze was starting to un-nerve her but she wasn't going to touch the body. That was a servant's job, not a monarch's! A pity it was that all the servants had perished in the storm. But then again, they had joined Caelia. They had got everything they deserved in the end.

She continued her walk around the Palace. She paused outside one of room in particular. The easel was completely smashed but the canvas was still intact. Her portrait was only a preliminary sketch. She assumed that one day someone would happen upon this barren land. How were they to know what happened here? Of the great risks she had taken so her sister would not win?

A plan formulated in her mind. She walked through the Palace again and again until she had found the likeness of every monarch upon a statue or painting. Holding the images in her head, she cast them forth into the Dining Hall. All of her ancestors; all the way back to the first King himself. How foolish and weak he looked when compared to her father and herself.

Finally she fetched the one bell she had been able to find intact and imbibed it with her Will. The note it rang would wake her from a deep and ageless sleep when visitors came to Charn again. Then she could leave. Then a new world could become the paradise she wanted Charn to be.

She dressed in her finest gown and took her place at the far end of her ancestors' images. As the sleep took hold of her, she smiled for the final time. She was going to live forever; and her sister was dead.

* * *

The young woman coughed out a mouthful of salty water and sat up. Almost instantly, she was knocked over again by another wave. She somehow crawled out of the crashing waves and looked at her surroundings, still coughing and spluttering.

She was on a beach beneath a small cliff. She ran her hands over the fine white sand and got slowly to her feet, still scanning around.

There was no-one else around. She shivered and ran her hands over her arms in an attempt to keep warm and maybe dry herself off a bit. Horror flooded through her as she realised blood was mixing with the sea water. Her blood. She gasped as the pain rocketed through her and she resisted the urge to rub her wounds.

Where was she? Where had she come from? She was wearing the bloodied and tattered remains of a once beautiful dress of green and gold. Had she been in some sort of battle?

She staggered over to the cliff. Someone had carved a set of steps into the rock. She climbed them, whimpering slightly as her joints ached, until she reached the top. A path wound from the top of the steps into a forest. She looked around her again. Still alone. With no-where else to go, she limped along the path.

The light beneath the trees was warm and green. If not for the terrible state she found herself in, she would have enjoyed the walk. Well, it was currently more of a stumble than a walk.

Eventually she heard a voice in the distant. Or was it two, laughing together?

She tried to run forwards but her injured leg gave way. With a cry, she fell to the ground.

The laughter stopped and two figures burst through the trees ahead of her. They hurried towards her when they saw her lying in the dirt.

"Help me!" she begged them, stretching a bloodied hand towards them. The younger of the two, the one with the shock of red hair, approached her cautiously.

"Hello," he said warily. "Who are you, and how did you come to our Master's Kingdom?"

She paused, thinking. Her face twisted into a picture of abject misery. "I don't know! I can't remember! The first thing I can recall is waking up on the beach!"

"You are safe now," the other said, holding out a hand for her to take. His face was close enough to the red-head's that they could be brothers but his own hair was a blond so pale it was almost white.

As her fingers brushed his, he gasped and pulled away. She fell forwards, again crying out in pain.

"What was that for?" the red-head demanded.

"She is Tainted," the blond said darkly. "His magic is within her."

They both looked at her like she was going to rear up and attack them. Their hands moved to the swords at their hips and loosened the blades in their scabbards.

"Please help me! I'm not going to harm you!" she wept. She stared at them imploringly. They exchanged glances.

"We know," the red-head said. "But what lies inside you may hurt _us_. Come, we shall take you somewhere safe."

* * *

"You put her in the Fallen's prison?! She is a patient and a guest; not one of his gibbering minions!" a new voice exploded.

The young woman jumped and cowered away from the bars as the voice's face peered in at her. An olive-skinned face with inky black hair streaked with grey and currently adorned in a furious expression as it regarded her.

"It's the only place where his powers can be contained! What were we supposed to do; disturb the bookworm and ask to throw her back into Hell? She washed up on the shore like the souls always do, she was supposed to come here," the red-head insisted.

Olive-face pursed his lips. "Open the door then," he snapped. "I can't examine her from out here."

There was a clang from the lock and the door swung open. He advanced in and smiled kindly at her.

"Now, my dear, I won't hurt you," he said reassuringly. She relaxed a tiny bit and edged towards him slightly. He nodded encouragingly. "Good, good," he said and pressed his fingers to her temples. "My oh my, that's a nasty piece of work," he muttered. "She's Tainted alright, by the power of the Word of all things. It's eating away at her and her memories. I can limit the damage but we shall need the Master to fully heal this hurt," he said to the two outside. "The other wounds are superficial; it shouldn't take us long to patch her up."

She felt something spread out in her mind and the fog that had possessed her seemed to lift slightly. She sat quietly while he washed and disinfected her injuries and bandaged the worst of them.

"There, all done," he said. "I want you to think about who you are. Please, try to remember."

She nodded and then she was left alone.

Who was she? What was her name? Did she have one? Everyone had one so she had to have one too. She stood and walked over to the bars of the cell. There was a guard standing on duty in the hall outside. She smiled but he didn't return it. The bars of the cell were odd. They were made of a peculiar silver material. She tried to touch it. A spark jumped across between her fingers and the bars and she yelped in pain.

"Don't try that again," the guard said as she sucked her burnt fingers. She nodded and examined the bars more closely, without touching them this time. She knew what they were made of, she was sure of it.

A memory slugged to the surface. A silver ball hovering in the air.

_Adamantine._

* * *

Hours, or maybe days, passed. She tried to remember more, she really did. There was the Sphere and many grand and beautiful rooms, and a sinister shadow in the shape of a man. But no name. She still had no idea who she was.

There was another face that flooded her mind fairly regularly. A face that greatly resembled her own but which had an underlying cruelty. She had a name for this face; _Sister._ She had a family even if she couldn't remember who they were.

Eventually, the red-haired man came back to her. He opened the door to the cell and grinned crookedly at her.

"Want to take a walk?" he asked. "Stretch your legs a bit?"

She nodded. He led her back the way he had taken her the first day. When they reached the forest again, he let her walk a few steps ahead and enjoy the sun.

"Any luck with the memories?" he asked. She shook her head.

"I have snatches here and there but nothing solid," she replied. "So what's your name? Seeing as how I cannot remember mine."

"I have many names. Our Lord once said that we move through life collecting names like we do possessions," he said, striding forward so he was level with her again.

"So which name is your favourite then?"

He exhaled noisily. "Uriel. I like Uriel the most, I think," he said.

"Then I shall call you Uriel!" she said happily. "Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you?" he said drily. "We've already met, princess."

She faltered. "I think, I think someone used to call me that," she said softly.

"Your father, perhaps?" he suggested.

Another face appeared in her mind. A cruel face twisted into an expression of absolute disappointment. There was something else. A burning village across water, the smoke churning into the air and the screams of the villagers ringing in her ears.

"No, I don't think he cared for me. And I have strange image; a village burning. Maybe it was my home," she said slowly.

They reached the edge of the forest and looked down upon the swelling sea. She leaned out over the edge of the cliff and breathed in the salty air. Something caught her eye.

"What's that?" she asked, pointing. Something gold was caught in the rocks at the foot of the cliff. It rocked backwards and forwards with the water as the waves crashed in and out.

"Don't know," he replied. "Let's take a look."

They hurried down the steps and onto the beach. He scaled the rocks easily and balanced himself precariously between two as he stretched down to grab the golden object. She giggled as a wave came out of nowhere and soaked him through. He spat out a mouthful of water and tugged.

"It's a cloak..." he said, pulling it free.

Her laughter stopped in an instant. He glanced at her over his shoulder. She was staring at the cloak hanging in his hand with a lost and hopeless expression. Her hands stretched forward like a child's and he passed it to her. Despite its sodden nature, she pressed it to her face and nuzzled it lovingly.

"I was a princess," she said in a small voice. "My name is Caelia, Royal Princess of Charn, greatest city that ever was and ever will be and wonder of the world."

Her eyes lifted from the cloak to his.

"Oh, by all the ancestors," she said, her voice breaking with emotion and her eyes welling with tears. "What have I done?"

* * *

**Boop, full circle! Back to where our story began and onto the next leg of the journey!**


	11. Learning to Fly

"Tell me what happened to Charn."

She poured her heart out to the Emperor. She sat by the pond, her fingers trailing in the water until they were numb, and she told Him everything. From the moment she resolved to run away to that thing which tore the world and her mind apart. She didn't cry again. All her tears were spent.

"Thank you, Caelia," He said. "Now, come here."

She edged towards Him and He placed a hand upon her head. She felt something at His touch.

The fog completely cleared from her mind and she felt something tug at her Will. It moved out from whatever corner of her it occupied and spread through her. She gasped; it was like submerging herself into a hot bath.

Glorious.

"Charn was destroyed by your sister but her weapon of choice was not her invention. The Word she used was an instrument of one of my Children who fell from grace long ago. I feared he would seek revenge and I am greatly saddened that your world was the price paid," He said sadly. "That Word has damaged you forever; the hurt can never be undone."

"But, the healer said-" she interrupted.

"He does not know fully of what he speaks. Only I and my fallen child know. I have placed protections around the worst of the damage and empowered your Will to combat the spread of decay. It should sustain you. Now, the only question left is what shall we do with you?"

She waited.

"Michael?" He called. The captain of the guards appeared around a corner and bowed. "Find a room for young Caelia here. She will be joining our household. I will leave the details to you and your brothers," He said. He stood and wandered away, picking a blossom off a tree as He went.

* * *

She was given a small room in a tower. For the first few days, she was left alone. Presumably this was to allow her to gather her thoughts. She also used this time to practice with her Will again. Whatever He had done to her was incredible. It did not feel any easier or more powerful when she used her Will; it just felt... good.

After a few days, she ventured outside. Nobody stopped her as she explored the gardens and buildings of her new home. Instead they seemed curious. She was certain that some of the servants were doubling back so they could get a proper look at her.

Occasionally she saw Uriel and his brother with the captain of the guards, Michael. Uriel always gave her a beaming smile; his brother and Michael respectful nods that she returned with one of her own. She only saw the olive-skinned healer once, hurrying between one destination and the next with an armful of papers and the expression of one who was late for something very important. He'd paused long enough to smile warmly and incline his head to her before hastening on again.

Strangest of all was the figure with the amber eyes. That was the only thing she noticed whenever she saw him; those incredibly deep eyes that smiled at her with a kindness and wisdom she had never seen before in a face.

And yet, even surrounded by all this wonder and all these kind people, she found herself getting bored. She had no purpose or duties for the first time in her life. There was nothing for her to do but explore and after several days she was tiring of leaving her room each day to walk through the gardens.

She walked the walls of the citadel; she peered into so many grand rooms; she explored what felt like every walkway and hideaway of the magnificent gardens. There was only one she had not explored. It stood a little to the side of the throne hall, another vast hall of white stone. She climbed the steps and slipped through the doors. She gasped.

It was a vast library, stretching up and away until it reached a glass roof. She walked down between the rows of bookshelves, her hands sliding along the spines of the books, and smiled. It was so peaceful and serene here. She stopped and heaved a book from the shelf but she could not read the alphabet inside. Pushing it back into its gap, she continued into the depths of the library.

Eventually she reached the centre of the hall. All the bookshelves seemed to radiate out from this spot and there was a work-station in the very middle. Piles of papers, blank and written, littered a table along with some quills and empty ink bottles. She wandered over and picked up one of the pieces of paper. It showed a sketch of a landscape, a few notes in yet another strange alphabet scrawled in the bottom corner.

"_Who are you and what are you doing here I don't like to be disturbed who said you could come in here?!_" a voice screeched from behind her. She dropped the paper hurriedly and raised her hands as something prodded her in the back.

That voice; she knew that voice. That was the peevish voice that had emanated from the Sphere. She turned slowly.

He wasn't quite what she expected. He was short for one, with a grumpy old face and snowy white hair. He glared at her through his half-moon spectacles and lowered the letter-opener he was brandishing like a great-sword.

"Oh, it's you," he said grumpily. He hobbled around her and sat back at the desk. "Nice to see that you have found my little corner," he added, sheathing the letter opener and picking up a quill.

"You... you..." she began to stutter and he looked at her expectantly.

"Yes, I was the Sphere," he said. "Nice to meet you in person at last, Caelia."

She sat down heavily on a stool and stared at him as he began to write again. After a few minutes, his brow furrowed and he slammed the quill down.

"It is rather off-putting to have you stare at me like that," he said pointedly.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but what are you doing?"

"I'm the Celestial Scribe. You may call me Metatron, I suppose. I watch our Master's realms and I record the happenings in the books of this library," he said. He got to his feet and held out a hand to her. "Come, come, let me show you around," he said. "It is always worth letting the new souls see the Library."

She took his arm, slightly confused about the sudden change in his demeanour, and let him lead her down one of the aisles.

"This is the Library of Creation," he said, waving an arm around. "I serve the Emperor, the Lord of the Creation, and I have been tasked with recording what happens in his realms."

"You already said that," she said helpfully. He glared at her.

"All of these books," he continued, "contain the lives and fates of every living being and every world in Creation. To some extent, we have to allow a change in thoughts. Dreadful amount of paperwork if someone has a blasted epiphany and starts living completely differently."

"What is down there?" Caelia asked as they reached the end of the aisle. She indicated the stone arch in front of them.

"Why don't you go and take a look?" he said.

She peered into the room and then stepped over the threshold. Wide stone shelves of sandstone lined the room from floor to ceiling and on them sat shallow dishes made of various materials. She stepped closer and peered into one that was roughly at eye-level with her. It was filled with crystal clear water and inside she could see a forest. She had a bird's eye view of the ground. She gasped in delight as small bird-like creatures waddled across the forest floor. Her fingers trailed in the water and a sound rose from the bowl; a happy bubbling chatter that she assumed was their speech.

"Each dish holds a different world. Every world within Creation," Metatron said.

"There's so many," she said, turning and staring at the others.

"And my brothers wonder why I'm so grumpy all the time," he muttered. She moved along the row, peering into each one and smiling as she saw the different lives of the worlds within. There was one that was different. It was made of an earthy red terracotta and the water inside was murky and dark like dust or mud was mixed in with it.

"I can't see anything in this one," she said. Metatron sighed sadly.

"That is because that one held Charn," he told her. She bowed her head.

"Is that what you meant when you said I would rise or I would fall," she said in a small voice. "I fell and Charn fell with me. I had the chance to save it and save my sister but I didn't so my world was destroyed."

"What!" he exclaimed. "Oh, no! You have it completely wrong! You would have fallen if you joined your sister! If you stood together then you would have dragged your world into a darkness unlike anything you know."

She looked up in disbelief. "So, I rose?"

"You came to us and was accepted into our household. By doing so, you rose higher than any before you," he confirmed.

He took her hand in his, smiling widely.

"And now, my dear," he said, "we are going to teach you to fly."

* * *

**AN: Metaphorical flying, not literal, I think I should point out. :P**

**And Lady Hannah and Mr Fuhreeree were closest with the Sphere's identity, although they didn't get the right angel.  
**

**Oh, and we finally passed 1000 views! I've never had a story that has such loyal reviewers with so little views. So thank you, guys! ^_^**

**I am painfully aware that Metatron isn't exactly angelic in his temperament (or appearance) but it shall be explained at the end of next chapter when I have had a chance to properly introduce all of them so please bear with for now. No epiphanies please, let's give him some peace! Toodles!**


	12. New Life

Caelia lost track of the time she spent in that realm.

In the first few days, she spent a lot of time in the Library with Metatron. She helped him with small tasks; dusting the shelves and fetching and carrying books for him. She also spent a lot of time with the room with the dishes. There was one world in particular that fascinated her, probably because of the resemblance the native creations held with her own people. For hour upon hour she would sit and watch them.

There was one thing that she was innately curious about. Set into the wall of the room itself was a block of obsidian. It was always cool to the touch but the metal lock in the centre burned her fingers when she fiddled with it. When she asked Metatron, all he replied was that she should pray that she never saw inside. Of course, that only further ignited her desire to know about the world so dangerous that it was to be locked away.

She also spent a lot of time with Uriel. They shared a similar character and the same mischievous sense of humour. The dynamics between Uriel and the others was one of the most amusing but complicated things she had ever observed in her life. Uriel was very much the baby of the group, the immature jokester, and he merrily crashed from one problem to the next with little thought. The one with white-blond hair who, along with Uriel, had found her on the first day she learned was named Gabriel. Uriel and he appeared to be close although, from her point of view, he spent most of his time following in the wake of Uriel's destruction; a weary sigh almost permanently issuing him and his eyes forever cast skyward.

Michael was their captain. They would rally to his call and follow his orders but they would also exchange coy glances and roll their eyes when his back was turned. The healer she came to know as Raphael and her heart always tugged with pity for him. He was very highly strung, whether from the demands of his job or the merciless pranks Uriel inflicted upon him she did not know.

And Metatron? She never saw him outside of his domain. He seemed to labour endlessly amongst the books, never stopping, never so much as pausing. He only made time for Uriel as part of their duties seemed to overlap. On occasion, she had rounded a corner only to see them bent over a book with solemn faces and she had turned and left before they were interrupted.

She was welcomed into their little family with few questions. In time, Michael sent her on small missions to the other worlds. She was always accompanied by Gabriel and Uriel for these expeditions. Some filled her with joy and some with despair. She struggled and she persevered and, without even being aware of it, she grew and flourished as a being. Her Will burned brighter than ever inside of her, her greatest weapon and her greatest comfort.

Strangest of all was her new affinity for the colour white. She supposed it was due to the influence of the others; Metatron and Raphael were always garbed in robes of shining white while Michael, Gabriel and Uriel preferred loose white shirts. She began to favour a simple white dress with no adornments. It made her laugh to think of what her mother would have said to see her run around carrying out tasks like a servant in so plain a gown.

Yet, she enjoyed her work. Whether she was aiding Metatron in the Library or running through some beautiful world with Gabriel and Uriel on a mission for Michael or Raphael. She revelled in it. It made her feel happier than she ever had before.

One day she entered the Library to find Metatron at his table with the Emperor and someone else. She averted her eyes, as was her custom when she came into contact with the Emperor. Metatron smiled at her.

"Caelia! Excellent timing!" he said warmly. "I have some tasks for you. Run down to the sea with this dish and fill it with water. Then, on your way back, go to the orchard and pick a fruit for us."

She nodded and picked up the dish he indicated. It was like the others but made of a rich oak. It didn't take her long to run down to the beach and fill it to the brim with glistening water.

The fruit, on the other hand, she felt required some thought. Setting the dish down by the orchard's gateposts, she walked through the trees. She paused under the apple trees. They were one of her favourite fruits and the ones which grew here were particularly delicious. One caught her eye; so red and lovely it was.

Metatron smiled when she returned to them with the items. "An apple?" he noted as she handed it to him. "Been a while since we last used one of those."

He turned back to the table and finished writing something on the sheet of parchment spread over the top.

"All finished, your Majesty. We only await a name," he said.

"Narnia," the Emperor said. Metatron nodded and wrote _Narnia_ on the side of the apple in his elegant script.

"And what name will they know you by in that land, my Lord?" he asked the other person politely.

"I was thinking Aslan. It suits the form I am to take there," He answered. Metatron handed Him the apple.

"It will be one of the finest, I believe," he said and bowed as the figure walked from the Library.

The Emperor stayed for a moment. Caelia felt His eyes on her.

"It is curious that you have spent all this time with us and you still can't bring yourself to look at me," He said. "Today is a happy day, Caelia. My Son is to go into the Endless Void and call forth a new world into existence. Look upon me and share in my happiness."

She raised her eyes to His. Warmth and love flooded through her and her eyes filled with tears. He cupped her cheek tenderly.

"And so your journey is complete," He murmured. With a nod to Metatron, He strode from the Library.

"Take the dish and place it with the others," Metatron instructed her. She shot him an amused look but picked it up and walked through the aisles to the room where the dishes lay. As she set it down, she stirred the water inside. Nothing. There was no world yet; it was still empty. She sighed and turned to leave.

Something caught her eye. There was a pile of dust and dirt on one of the shelves. She crossed to it and picked some of it up. It was still damp. She set it back down, suddenly uneasy, and quickly counted the dishes. They were one short. Which world was missing?

Metatron called her and she hurried from the room. Now she was getting worried. Out of all the worlds, which one was gone?

"One of the worlds is gone," she said as she reached Metatron again. He glanced at her over his spectacles.

"Hmmph. I'll check the records later after the new world is born," he said, heaping some of the papers scattered over the desk into a neater pile. "Would you like to see it?"

She nodded eagerly. He handed her some sketches of landscapes. She sank onto her stool, a tiny smile of wonder playing around her face, and flipped through drawings of woods and meadows.

"It's beautiful," she said, her voice breaking with emotion.

"Yes, it is," he agreed softly. A warm golden light flooded his desk, bringing with it a breeze that ruffled her hair and bombarded her with the scents of the forest and flowers and the raw salty stench of the open sea. Carrying on the breeze very faintly was a voice singing; the most beautiful and wondrous voice she had ever heard in all her years.

A book slowly faded into existence. It hovered above Metatron's desk and sank down onto it as the breeze and golden light vanished.

Metatron ran a hand lovingly over the scarlet cover and traced the golden lettering with a finger.

"And so is born the world of Narnia," he said formally, a twinkle in his eye. "May it prosper and grow and may its citizens flourish unto the end of Time itself."

* * *

**I loved writing this chapter. I'm so eager to know what you all thought of it.**

**Couple of things to explain. Firstly, I don't know how time in the Emperor's realm matches with our time but Caelia is there for _years_ by our standards. In my mind, the Fall of Charn happened somewhere in Earth's Classical era (the Greeks, Romans and Babylonians). In fact, Caelia's first little mission with Uriel and Gabriel is to Earth in this time. I intend to write this story but I won't post it here because I think it strays far too far into original fiction.**

**Secondly, Metatron and the other angels. I want them to be workable characters. Take Uriel; he's a little immature and a bit of a joker but when he has to, he steps up to the plate and becomes this great and powerful force for good that we usually think of when we think of an angel. Same with Metatron; he has and will continue to serve as a slightly irritable mentor figure to Caelia but come trouble (which is coming very soon!) we shall see him rise to the occasion.**

**Thirdly, I had a cute scene where Caelia and Uriel watched a Shakespeare play in Earth's dish but it unfortunately had to be cut. I just thought I would share that with you. :P**


	13. Direct Intervention

"It's Charn," Metatron said darkly. He slammed the world's book on the table. Caelia pulled it towards her. She turned to the back and ran a hand over the symbols. Old Charnish; her mother tongue. She now spoke and wrote several languages but seeing her first language always invoked strange feelings of nostalgia.

"Huh. So she used two children from the world of the Sons of Adam. And Charn collapsed around her as they fled," she said, reading the last page.

"And now she will wreak havoc upon some other poor unsuspecting world and we have no idea which one!" he spat and threw his spectacles down upon the table.

"Surely the world of the children?" she said.

"No, I looked. A brief mention in the city of London and then she vanishes again. We have to find her and quickly!" he said.

The other four joined them.

"We have searched almost every world. No sign of her or the damage of the Word," Michael reported. Silence fell in the Library. Caelia stared around at the shelves. So many books. The logical thing to do would be to find Jadis' but it would be like trying to find the proverbial stick in the forest. There was a book for every being in existence and they moved by themselves. She could put one away and return a few hours later to the same spot to find another life in another world sitting there. Jadis' tome could be anywhere.

They heard another pair of feet rapping across the marble floor towards them. They stood as the Emperor's Son appeared.

"She's in the world of Narnia," He said grimly.

"Not the new world," Raphael murmured, sinking into a seat. "We can't lose another. Not so soon."

"She fled but I think she is merely biding her time. I propose we wait until she reveals her intentions," He said. "And then, we act before she can destroy again."

"Sire, that would mean Direct Intervention," Michael said disbelievingly in the following silence. There was a thump as the book of Charn fell from Caelia's lap.

Direct Intervention was when they meddled in the affairs of a world and it was the ultimate taboo. Creation would not stand for it and the consequences were utterly unpredictable. A village could come down with toothache for a month or a mountain could explode and kill everything in a fifty mile radius. There was no way of knowing. All they knew was there would always be consequences.

Caelia had dabbled in Direct Intervention shortly after arriving in the Emperor's household. Her actions had resulted in the deaths of over a hundred thousand people. One tiny action on her part had destroyed so much. It had taught her a valuable lesson but still haunted her to this day.

"I would not ask if you if I did not think there was any other way," He said. "Jadis is corrupted by Lucifer the Fallen and we must stop her before another world can fall."

They watched and waited for something to happen. The Emperor's Son went again and again to Narnia to try to find some sign of where Jadis had gone. It was all futile; she had vanished without a trace.

Caelia spent hours sitting by Narnia's dish. She watched the Talking Beasts and other creatures flourish and with each new life her heart sunk further. What was Jadis going to do to them?

Her worst fears were realised when, one day, she entered the room with the dishes to find the water of Narnia completely frozen over. She ran as fast as she could back to the centre of the Library.

"It is time," she gasped. "Narnia is frozen and I bet it is Jadis' doing."

There was a pause as her companions looked at each other.

"Fine. Let us begin," Metatron said. "I propose that we choose champions to be our instruments."

"Can I remind you what happened last time we tried that?" Uriel said drily. He jerked his head towards Caelia.

"Maybe we could pick champions from another world? I seem to recall an opening between Narnia and the world of the Sons of Adams. Why not them?" Gabriel suggested.

"That... might actually work," Metatron said. He fetched the book which chronicled the world of the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Eve. "Yes, Gabriel, you are quite right," he said, peering at the pages through his spectacles. "The boy Diggory who witnessed the Birth of Narnia has in his possession a wardrobe that contains a link between his world and Narnia."

"You two were supposed to repair that," Michael said crossly to Gabriel and Uriel. Their faces became innocently blank.

"And aren't you glad we didn't?" Uriel replied. "Now, what of the champions?"

"There should be four, in my opinion, and they should be related. Siblings would be best. A familiar bond is not easily broken," Raphael said.

Caelia fetched the bowl containing their world and they seemed to spend hours skimming backwards and forwards trying to find a suitable family. They didn't appear to be in a hurry.

Her irritation with them grew and grew. She had fallen in love with Narnia. It was such a beautiful land and now it was in danger. _Why did Jadis take everything she loved from her?_ It wasn't fair! Why couldn't her friends move faster? Why did it take so long to decide?!

"Here!" Metatron said eventually. They gathered around the dish and looked at the four. Two boys and two girls; the youngest girl holding hands and being swung back and forth by her older brother and sister.

"No, they won't do," Caelia said. She pointed to the younger boy. He was trailing behind his siblings with a sulky face. "He has a darkness in his heart. Jadis will see it and exploit to her full advantage," she said.

Uriel snorted. "We've relied on less and triumphed. I say we run with them."

He turned as if he had heard something and wandered away between the shelves.

"I believe in them," Raphael said and the others nodded in solemn agreement.

"So we are in agreement. We will manipulate their destinies so they are brought to Narnia to face Jadis. May the Emperor have mercy on us for our actions, for we should not dabble in Direct Intervention," Metatron said quietly. They bowed their heads. Caelia tried to block out the screams of those poor people; the water rising and rising in a terrible, unstoppable force; the beautiful white buildings vanishing beneath the ocean waves. It was years ago, she reminded herself, it happened such a long time ago. It wasn't going to happen again.

"Creation approves," Uriel said, appearing again with four books stacked in his hands. "Their books were on the first shelf I looked on."

He placed them on the table so they could see their names. Good names, Caelia thought as she read them.

"Excellent work," the Emperor's Son approved as He approached them. "Who have you chosen?"

"Four children of Adam and Eve," Metatron informed him. "Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie. I think you shall find them worthy of the great task required of them."

"Excellent," He repeated, nodding His head. "Metatron, Uriel, begin to change their destinies. War is coming to their world; use it to your advantage. Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, they shall require tools to aid to them. I shall leave it to you to decide what is appropriate for each of them."

"And me?" Caelia asked. He smiled at her.

"I have a special task for you, child. Your sister will listen to you. Go to her; tell her of our plans and warn her of the consequences if she does not back down," He said.

"I don't know if I can, my Lord. I don't know if I have the strength to stand against her again," she stammered.

"I believe that you can," He said. She looked around at the others. They smiled kindly at her. They had faith in her, she realised. It gave her some courage; a warm feeling coiling in her stomach.

She tried to push one treacherous thought from her head; last time people had faith in her, they all died.

* * *

The water of Narnia was more than frozen; the entire world was frozen. Caelia walked between the snow-covered trees in her golden cloak. She did not feel the cold. Her Will burning inside of her kept her warmer than any furs or wool could.

She arrived outside a hideous structure of stone and ice. Jadis' Palace; in which she hid, playing Queen as she once had in Charn.

"_Jadis!_" Caelia shouted. She added some of her Will to the cry so it amplified and echoed off the nearby mountains. "_Jadis! Open these damn gates or I shall blow them from their hinges!"_ she screamed when nobody answered.

Still nothing.

She gathered her Will but, before she could strike, the gates swung open. Jadis emerged in a gown of white. Caelia sighed sadly when she saw her.

The years had not been as kind to her sister as they had been to her. Jadis' skin had lost the little colour it had had. It was so pale it was almost translucent giving her a skeletal appearance. Saddest of all, her lustrous dark hair had had the colour sucked from it. No longer was it the deep tones of ebony that still adorned Caelia's head. Now it was a pale ash blonde; gathered into a bun at the back of her head and topped by a crown of shimmering icicles. An Ice Queen to match her stolen dominion.

"You are dead," Jadis said softly.

"Not exactly," Caelia replied. Her eyes fell to her sister's side and she frowned when she saw the long, crystal wand hidden in the folds of Jadis' dress.

"I've come to warn you," she continued, raising her eyes back to Jadis' face. "Stop this madness now, Jadis. Give up the throne you have taken and my Masters won't act. Persevere and we shall fight against you."

Jadis laughed coldly. "Really, little ghost of my sister? This world was left open for me to take. It is as much mine as Charn was and if your so-called Masters interfere, then what is to stop me from destroying it as I did our birthplace?"

She smiled smugly. Caelia shifted in the snow, her mind ticking over.

"You dare," she said. "You _dare_ to try that again?! You _dare_ to suggest that you would say the Deplorable Word again!"

And then she saw it. The tiniest flicker in Jadis' stony face. Realisation blossomed in Caelia's mind.

"You can't say it anymore," she said slowly. Jadis swelled and opened her mouth but she raised a finger. "I felt the Word rage through my mind, Jadis. It burned me from the inside out; it tore apart my sanity and my memories and when I awoke I did not know who I was. That sort of power would affect the speaker too... _and that is why you have a wand! __Your are weak!_"

She could end this right now. All she had to do was lay a hand on Jadis' wand and blow it to pieces; break her Will and leave her powerless. She leapt forward with an outstretched hand but Jadis danced away. She held the wand defensively behind her and glared at her sister with all the menace she could manage.

But Caelia wasn't afraid of her any longer.

"I am the strong one now, Jadis!" she yelled. "My Will burns brighter than ever and yours has dwindled."

"No, I can say it!" Jadis said hotly but Caelia screamed in her face, "Then say it! Go on, say it! Destroy me again; that is what you want, isn't it! You would see a thousand worlds burn if it meant you could prove you were stronger than me! Well, no longer, Jadis! I am stronger than you! I have been shown the light of the Emperor; I have done his bidding and grown as a being while _you_ play at being Queen!"

The Queen was an impressive figure who cast terror into the Narnians but Jadis was Caelia's sister. Jadis the bully; Jadis the child. Caelia could see her for what she truly was. Hope blazed through her and she drew herself to her full height. She pointed a finger towards Jadis with a theatrical flourish.

"Mark my words, sister," she said. "_When Adam's flesh and Adam's Bone sits at Cair Paravel in throne, the evil times shall be over and done."_

"Poetry was never your strong point," Jadis sneered but Caelia could see that she was shaken. Jadis was afraid.

"I don't care. Our champions are coming for you, Jadis. Aslan shall return and you shall be overthrown," she said. "Farewell, sister."

She turned, her golden cloak sweeping out behind her, and laughed away she walked away.

"Farewell, my dearest sister! Winter doesn't last forever and Spring must come!" she called over her shoulder.


	14. This Shall Never Be Over

Caelia walked along the beach below Cair Paravel. She smiled as the Sea crashed into the shore again and ran up to wash her bare feet.

Music was still drifting down from the citadel. Oh, how they would be celebrating inside. Jadis' icy reign had been next to nothing to the servants of the Emperor but to the Narnians it had been one hundred long years. When you included the four new monarchs, it gave them reason to carry the celebrations on well into the night.

Her mind turned to the four inside. Of all, she was proudest of Edmund. She had doubted him and, when the children first arrived, three times she nearly revealed herself to them for fear that they would lose him forever. But something had held her back; maybe the same something that had motivated Edmund and helped him towards redemption. He had shown her the light in his heart and he most certainly deserved the title of the Just.

And the other three. Her heart had broken for them so many times. How easy it would have been to step forward from her hiding places and tell them who she was and who she fought for. She had longed to hold Lucy and Susan and tell them that all would be well; she wanted to fight alongside Peter, the one she had had the most faith in of all of them. But she knew she could not. Metatron would have been furious with her.

"We have already committed Direct Intervention by bringing them to Narnia! Don't you dare go and bloody expose yourself too!" he had snapped when she foolishly told him of her notions.

He was right, of course.

The few Narnians she had crossed paths with had been deathly afraid of her; and for good reason. Scurrying around with a face that greatly resembled a hated enemy was not the most renowned way to gain trust.

"Caelia," a familiar voice called. She turned and smiled as Aslan approached her.

"Sire," she said formally as she curtseyed. "If I might be so bold, I do like your form in this world."

He chuckled warmly and drew level with her. "I am surprised that you are still hiding from your champions," he said.

"I still don't think I should. I don't want them to think Jadis has risen from the grave," she replied. She did turn and look up at the lights however. Part of her wanted to go up. Part of her wanted to join them.

Aslan was silent. "There is one final task for you to complete," he said eventually. "Jadis' body may have been destroyed... but her soul needs to be dealt with."

* * *

This world was made of a cold black stone. Sulphur and smoke hung heavily in the atmosphere. Caelia dodged a fountain of acid that shot up through the porous stone and danced to the side again as she dangerously neared a pool of lava. What a terrible place.

Slowly, a great structure appeared through the smog. A gate, impossibly wide and high. Her nose wrinkled as her eyes picked out the thousands of bones that were joined together and fused into the metal that formed that terrible construction. As she got even closer, her eyes picked out the tiny figure at the base of the gate.

"Jadis," she said as she stepped towards her.

Her sister was still wearing that monstrous battle dress. How she could move in all that chainmail escaped Caelia completely and how she detested that mane around Jadis' neck and all it stood for.

"Commiserations. You fought an excellent battle," Caelia continued. "It's a shame we know our craft better. I did warn you there would be consequences. But now I have a choice for you. My Master is kind and forgiving. If you admit to your evils and cast them from your heart then He will welcome you into His household as He did me!"

Jadis' face was carefully blank. Then it began to twist and churn into an expression of pure hatred and disgust.

"Never! I am not some piece of livestock like you!" she screamed. "I am a Queen; I am a Ruler; I bow to _no-one!"_

"Then we are finished," Caelia said softly. With an age-old creak and the hair-raising squeal of bone on bone, the gates swung open behind Jadis. A clamour of voices surged forth; dark voices, crazy voices, the voices of the damned. They screamed and screeched and scrabbled at the air with decaying and mottled arms. Jadis looked over her shoulder at them and turned back to her sister with an insane smile curving around her mouth and a fire burning in her eyes.

"It shall _never_ be over between us, Sister Dear!" she giggled.

Caelia drew herself to her full height.

"In the name of my Master, Lord, Emperor and Creator of Worlds, I condemn you, Jadis of the Royal House of Charn, to the Realm of Hell for all eternity," she said. "You are now one of the Lost Souls, you are now one of the Damned." Her Will burst forth and struck her sister's form.

Jadis flew back into the gate with her arms outstretched gracefully. The mottled hands claimed her and began to pull and scratch at her body and clothing. The fur collar was torn away from her in an instant and her hair was pulled loose to fan around her. She did not scream, she did not move, but her eyes stayed locked with her sisters.

As the gates slammed shut between them, Caelia saw her throw back her head and laugh.

Caelia stood alone by the Gates of Hell and she did not know what to do. She wanted to sing, she wanted to cry with relief, she wanted to run straight back to her friends and begin their own celebrations. But part of her heart remained cold and fearful; for she knew Jadis spoke the truth.

It would never be over between them.

* * *

**And so we reach the end. I really don't know what to do at this point. My intention was to continue onto the sequel but I am having my doubts about it. Firstly, I don't know how it will be received. There are parts of the plot which could be taken in a very wrong way, particularly with the storyline I have planned for Lucy (which I can change) and the storyline for the Emperor (which I can't change as it is the pivotal point of the entire fic). I write primarily for myself but I would never upload something if I thought it would seriously offend someone so, in this case, I don't know what to do.**

**Secondly, there are other fics I want to work on. I want to have a go at writing an uncliché _Fifth Child comes through the Wardrobe_. (So far there are no pairings, she doesn't end up a Queen and she has never met a canon character before setting foot in Professor Kirke's house, I think I'm off to an OK start!)**

**Thirdly, I don't think my skills as a writer can give this sequel the justice I think it deserves yet. Simple as.**

**So, I'd really like some helpful and constructive advice. If I do post the sequel, it will be called _Destiny's Weapon_. **

**Thank you for reading this story. I poured my heart into this one, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did telling it.**


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